Hello all.  Wow I haven't written in awhile.  You know, every once in awhile I get in a little funk.  Something always triggers it.  And I kind of go inward.  No big deal.  Just grappling with stuff.  It happened on the way to school last week.  I took a new route and drove right past an elementary school I'd never seen before.  There were floods of little kids walking to school from a few blocks away.  I saw a little boy Cody's size with a backpack strapped on him - threatening to tip him backward from the weight!  He was so cute.  I watched him run, jump, grab his brother's hand.  He was laughing, yelling - doing all the stuff little boys do at that age.  For some reason, on this particular day, it struck a raw nerve and flooded me with sorrow.  Sorrow that still lingers like a wet blanket, unfortunately.  Although I know the Lord has brought me a long long way in this grieving process over Cody's disabilities and health -- that grief process is interesting because it has a life of it's own.  It folds over on top of itself sometimes and boom - you're back in the "depression" phase in the blink of an eye. 

So yes, I will admit, I've felt depressed for the last week.  I just have to get used to the idea that this is a marathon.  I have to find a way to exist and find that abundance in life even with the stress and sadness of having a sick child.  Each season of life brings a fresh wave of grief.  And that's okay.  And I'll be fine.  It's just kind of exhausting, you know?  Cody had a couple of bad seizure days last week which didn't help.  I had to pick him up from school once.  I walked in to see him passed out on a crash pad in the corner.  I just never get used to the seizures.  I'm sure I never will.  And we continue to fight for his progress at school - which on top of his medical issues - is way too much stress. 

In church today our pastor discussed the idea of Jesus saying "Come to Me you who are weary and heavy laden - and I will give you rest."  He emphasized "Come to Me" -- saying that's really what He wants.  He wants us to come to Him - hide in Him.  It was a good reminder.  When things get so heavy, I remember that He says  "Come to Me" for a reason.  He wants us to do it because it is right and true - and it is our only hope.  I do find great comfort in the act of going to Him.  As I confess my sadness - my desperation for Cody to be healed - and my confusion about why it is my son who is plagued with these horrid seizures and this sad life.  So many people have healthy children.  So many people don't have to give a thought to what it's going to be like when their retarded son is 6 feet tall and a grown man.  Who will take care of him when we die?  What will happen when puberty hits and testosterone kicks in?  Will he always wear diapers?  Will he ever be able to tell me he's thirsty?  Or that he has a headache?  Or will I always have to guess at everything?  What will life look like when Don and I are in our 70's and Cody is in his 30's? 

I took Cody to the park Friday because his seizures the day before made him too lethargic to go to school that day.  But he was going stir crazy in the house so I took him to the park.  He still has to go in the baby bucket swings - and his feet almost scrape the ground when he swings.  He still loves it and giggles up a storm.  But I stood there pushing him, watching the other healthy kids in the distance playing tag and other games.  And I just couldn't stop the tears from coming.  It's just sadness.  No other word for it.  I think even when you arrive at "acceptance" - the sadness still comes in waves at different times.  Seeing Cody's string bean little skinny legs scrape the ground with his tip of his crocs - swinging in his pajamas because he'd been passed out from seizures all day - yet still managing his crooked little smile as I pushed him - was just too much for me to take in.  It crushed me.  And I continue to be crushed.

 And - that's okay I guess.  Unless God does intervene with a physical miracle in this lifetime, this will be my lot.  I accept it, I do.  But these times of sadness are really crippling, I'll be honest.  I have so much to be grateful for - and that's what always pulls me out of these sad spells.  But there's really no avoiding them - and that's just part of the life I've been given. 

But gosh, if I could give my life tomorrow just to free Cody from seizures - I wouldn't think twice.  Just when I think I can't take one more day of them, I wake up and manage to get through it.  God has seen fit to give me this life.  I don't understand why - and never will understand why my son.  My son.  What could he have been?  Who could he have been?  What relationship would I have known with him?  So many questions.  And the only answer is the constant reminder that he is exactly who God ordained him to be.  Nothing more, nothing less. 

And in my sadness, God beckons, "Come to Me" and there I find the strength to go on and search for that abudant life He promises. 

love, Shawna