Tall Walls

My children are playing in the other room with my husband. He's so great to play with them. Seth is the youngest of five older brothers, and he doesn't like to be alone. Doesn't like to play alone for long. My husband is great to accommodate his desire to have a playmate. I'm grateful that he is "all there," and "all available" for the boys, because I struggle to be these days.

I struggle to play. I struggle to get close to this little guy. He's absolutely adorable, and deserves all of a mom's love, and I do love him deeply. I'm just speaking honestly about where my "walls" are these days. They are tall towers that surround my soul. There is just ONE that I feel the closest too, and that is my God.

Actually, I cling to Him. I'm obsessed with my Lord, and studying his word, and feeling his presence. While I long for Him, I am placing a void in my children for a mom that is emotionally present. I know this isn't the way that mom should be. I haven't been this way in the past, and I understand why I'm this way. I just have to get through it, and tear down the walls.

Loss...Parents aren't meant to have teenagers and babies at the same time. I'm convinced of that! While I'm letting go of my older children, I still have a toddler in the house. It pains me so much to see my teenagers go their own way that it leaves me vulnerable to love another, my youngest, like I've loved my first children. Then, to love a child with autism so very much, and to see him struggle, is sometimes unbearable.

I love my step-children like my own children. The doorbell rang this week-end, and there was a gentle reminder as the boys drove off with their biological mom, that there is another mother. Chase is so gentle to balance his mom's, me and Suanna. He's so careful to not hurt one or the other by making either of us feel inadequate. He's absolutely adorable, and truly the child of my heart.

In 1995, I was heartbroken by the loss of a baby. Chase filled that spot. He was born in 1995! He is gentle, yet strong spirited, kind and wise. I was with him while he accepted Christ into his heart this summer, and was baptised. It was wonderful to be present while he was being born into the kingdom of heaven by asking Jesus into his heart.

One summer, our family spent a week at the Nueces river in the Texas hill country. We were the only ones at the camp since it was during the hottest part of the summer. After lathering on the sunscreen, we'd spend the day in the river. The boys began moving rocks, and soon we were all moving rocks, manipulating the flow of the water. The stones became our pathways. The walls we built became something that we controlled, and something that controlled the flow of the water.

I think the first step to tearing down the walls is to recognize that it is there in the first place. I see the stones as clearly as I could see through the cool running river water on those hot summer days. I'd move a rock, and the dirt would stir for a moment, but soon it would settle, and the water would flow.

There are lessons in the stones we move, the walls we tear down, the pains that we suffer. The dirt settles, and soon we're in control again. The water runs clear again. We're wiser and stronger when we can find the strength to tear down the walls.