He'll Never Let Me Go (...a God post)

Sometimes I'll write a post and doubt whether or not I should click on that orange 'publish post' button.  This is one of those.  Okay, many of them are 'those'.  Oh well, I guess I'll just type it as it comes and let the cookies crumble how they like;-)

:::rubbing face with both hands::: 

Last night, a friend of my husband's was poking fun at me for my faith. 

Disclaimer:  She was not attempting to be malicious.  She was, more or less, jokingly mocking me.  There's a difference in my book.  One I can attempt to speak to, while the other simply requires a head shake.

I know what it is that gets me through each day.  A God I haven't always known.  A Creator who cared so much for me that He continued to pursue me.  He has given me the miracle of a healed child, and of a restored marriage.  He's shown me that who I thought I was?  Pales in comparison to all that He intends me to be.  The strength I always credited myself with?  Can't hold a candle to the strength He gives me.  He calms me.  Wait.  Let me say that again...

He calms me.

Doctors #1-5:  "If your son survives, the best case scenario is that he'll have at least some form of mental retardation."

(...and that's when I found out just how 'real' God is)

Psychologist #1:  "I don't think you've accepted the fact that your son will never...(insert things parents dream of for their children)

(...circa 2011, son has been and done all the things that guy listed, as well as additional things he may have said, but the steam from my ears rendered me unable to hear.  My son may have the word 'restored' handwritten in black ink within his med chart, achieve distinguished honors in school, play sports, and be actively involved in school gov't, but his biggest victory is his faith and trust in the Lord.)

Psychologist #2:  "I don't think you've accepted the reality, Tina.  You have a chronic, lifelong, debilitating disease"

(Totally get that, but I refuse to cry over it.  It doesn't deserve my tears.)

And last night...

Husband's friend, as hockey team was getting blown out:  "don't you have to go to the bathroom to pray?"

(...what's that catchy, new abbreviation?  'SMH'.  Yeah, that:-)

It's okay.  Not everyone has been brought to a state of emotional weakness that drove them to their knees in a literal fashion, as I have - so prayer might sound silly.  Not everyone has found themselves face down on the floor, sobbing, feeling as if everything was spinning out of control and there was nothing they could do to change it - so faith might seem frivolous.  And if they've never fallen down 10 steps in front of their toddlers, landed in a crumpled heap, knocked the wind out of themselves, and had to communicate through a series of clicks and grunts to obtain a phone to call their mother for help...

Well then...they probably don't have ms;-)