I can’t fix it

The theme of this blog, recently, has been to write about “what God is teaching me.” I haven’t written in days and oh, how I wish it could be because God had declared that I know enough, that I could take a break from being taught. 

 As I am sure you are aware though, that is NOT true. I never get to stop learning. I think instead that God was asking me to learn more in one weekend than ever before. Again. 

 Mom was admitted to the hospital, again, on Thursday. It was her SPS in December. A heart attack in January. Her SPS again on Thursday. (This second link is a fairly long video but the first 30 seconds, showing this woman’s spasms, give an idea of what this disease is like.)

 Plus I myself spent 8 days in the hospital in January and had a procedure that only required one day but left me sore and exhausted for a week in Feb. 

 I am tired of the hospital. I am tired of sickness. I am tired of being tired. 

 This weekend was already fully planned. My turn to have fun. 

 Friday was the unit formal event - Army ROTC prom basically. 

 Mom, Emilee, Kelsey and all of their children were suppose to drive down to my house while I was at the ball Friday night and spend all day Saturday playing at our house. We had created a kid friendly army event. Camouflage gear, protective glasses, loads of nerf guns and a course to run in order to “beat the bad guys” (named Canaan and Zion). Plus Andy had built several other toys that go “boom”, just for the fun of it. 

 Sunday would be clean up and recovery, a fun breakfast all together and then loading the family up into their vehicles and sending them home.

 See what I mean- fully planned. 

 Then Thursday Mom was admitted to the hospital again and there was nothing I could do to fix it. 

 That is the key point. 

 I could not fix it. 

 I couldn’t change the army event that Andy was required to attend, or make him available to drive me to GA. 

 I couldn’t make Mom well. I couldn’t even help her pain. 

 I couldn’t clear the schedule for the sisters, or their husbands or the friends who are always there to help. 

 I had absolutely zero control. 

 I could not fix it. 

 That verse sums up how I feel today, looking back on my emotions on Friday. (And Sat, and perhaps still Sun too) I have to learn this lesson over and over. I can’t fix it. 

 Andy reminded me that there was nothing I could do, so he told me to paint my nails, put on my heels and simply have fun with him. 

I did have fun with him.

 Friday night Kelsey left her kids with her in-laws and went to Mom in the hospital. Saturday morning Emilee loaded her crew up and came to me. She doesn’t like to put her kids online, so there aren’t any cute, clear pics of them. But you get the idea :)

 A “bad guy” getting painted up, my Zion.

The practice event, showing how to take cover and run toward the goal. 

Teaching the littles how to reload their guns. 

Another “bad guy” who couldn’t be painted because he had to leave for work soon but wanted to participate. So my Canaan dressed up like a “ninja” instead. 

One of the littles really didn’t care about the guns or paint. 

He just wanted to play with Samwise.

Another of the littles can’t walk yet, so he just enjoyed the sunshine on momma’s hair.

 Here is the point to this. I couldn’t fix anything. I couldn’t help Mom. Not physically. Not spiritually- she has to rest in God herself. Not even emotionally because I was too upset about my carefully laid plans being messed up. I couldn’t fix anything. 

 And that is okay. 

 I went to the formal with my amazing husband. 

 I threw a party with some of my nieces and nephews. 

 I took my meds as required, read my Bible, ate pizza and soaked up love from and poured it back out on one sister and her kids.

 That was enough.
 I couldn’t fix anything, but I could do something new.

 I know you have all been there before. Maybe you are there right now.
 You can’t fix it. Not for the people you love. Not even for yourself.
 I promise you that God has something new, something different than you expected. Keep learning. Keep looking.
 You can’t fix it and that is ok.
 HE Can.