I’ve spent 19 years “fixing” Josh. Born with Sickle Cell Anemia, Josh came home through the miracle of adoption when he was 6 months old. He’s been a medically complex kid since the day he arrived into our lives—gaining full access to our hearts before we even laid eyes on him.
This last year, through 90 nights in the hospital, my mama “fixer feature” was in overdrive. I had my job cut out for me. When Josh was at the Hospice House at the end of August, I was forced to confront the reality that I could no longer “fix” Josh. It was crushing. I had a new job.
Joshua’s oxygen saturation numbers have been plummeting since December, 2012. He’s been winded for the last nine months with activities we don’t give a second thought to preforming. I’ve heard him breathless before, trying to find air to make it through a sentence, but while we were at the Hospice House, it was coupled with wheezing and rattling through each long night. This I could not fix.
It shook me to the core. I had to slip into the bathroom to muffle my shaking sobs.
“I don’t know if I can do this, God.”
The first work of surrender is anguish. It cannot be neglected.
Over the last month, we’ve walked into a new world:
- Signing a DNR (do not resuscitate) is a bottomless pit. My hand shook. My heart shattered. They have not stopped.
- Stopping routine tests and treatments. (painfully difficult as these were a way of life)
- Regulating my life to pain control and poop patrol. I get to wear my mama “fixer” hat in those arenas. (High volume pain medication requires a Herculean commitment to a bowel management routine.*)
Over the last couple weeks, as Josh stabilized, I have have moved from “fixer” to “surrenderer” to “fulfill-er” of dreams—God sized dreams. God is planting dreams in Josh’s heart. He’s running the race like never before, eyes fixed and focused.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus … Hebrews 12:1-2a
Fixed and focused, let’s each run our race.
* Wanna Laugh?
While helping Josh with an enema the other day, my aim was not good. “Mom! Stop! You’re making a new hole. The one I have is all I need!”