Life this last week has been hard. And that was even with friends bringing meals. We have had the passing of the runny nose. Schedule explosions. Constant care. Days upon days of stress.
As days in casts have turned to weeks in casts and months in casts, I have found myself struggling with anger. (especially since she's in the spica cast) We thought we were getting a little girl that occasionally broke, not constantly broke. I have to keep rearranging my days and plans because we have to get an x-ray, there's an appointment for her, or now the constant care she requires while in the spica cast. Life in a spica cast is immobile at best and embarrassing and painful and those aren't the worst. Every morning we have tears and need pain medication, otherwise she doesn't want it. But the morning is not the only time she cries. She cries if you look at her sternly, if you don't do what she wants, over a toy, she wants to move somewhere, we aren't letting her do the thing she wants (because we are horrible parents and are still trying to teach her to share or go to bed at a decent hour). The tears wear on me. We don't want her to manipulate, but balancing that with her lack of mobility/pain/past, is a continual ballet. Multiple times a day I have to drop whatever I'm doing and carry her to the toilet and clean her up. She doesn't move unless I move her (or she's in the wheelchair, now that we have one, PTL). So I have found myself inconvenienced and angry. As I sat in church on Sunday, it hit me. Jesus was inconvenienced. He gave HIS life for me. Though it was why he came to earth, He could have chosen differently and left me to pay for my sins. How can I complain about the relatively small inconveniences I've endured, even if they are because of our obedience to HIM? I would rather live in obedience to God's call for our family trusting HIM for strength, sanity, endurance, grace then live outside of HIS will and blessings paying a great price for living MY way.
As I was dwelling on Christ's sacrifice, it came to me that He was embarrassed as well. So no embarrassment I suffer, like having a 4.5 year old that is not potty trained, is some "new" cross to bear that HE didn't bear first. He was stripped down and almost naked. All for US. No public humiliation I suffer can compare to what HE did for us. He could have chosen to come off the cross, to not even be placed on it to begin with, but then we would never have a chance to be in heaven. So if Christ could endure public ridicule, humiliation and embarrassment, surely I can get past the embarrassment of children who lack bowel control or verbal control or general self control.
We may not have a routine right now and most days it feels like survival of the fittist, but God has a plan in all of this and if nothing else it is growing my compassion, charity, and ability to not be a perfectionist (really thought I already had that beat, lol!). So we plod on, more slowly with more baggage (literally) and heavy with the weight of a sick child, but we plod. And I am ever thankful that Jesus is right here plodding with me.