Chosen

Dear Matthew, Macy, and Harris,

As you grow up, I am finding it harder and harder to protect you from the hurts of this world. I would love to wrap each of you in my arms and shelter you from the hurtful words and actions of others. As you get older, you will notice that other people, even the people you love, will say and do things that hurt you.  I want you to know that I will do all that I can to protect you, but I am slowly realizing that being a good Mama sometimes means letting you experience these things because these are the very situations that will make you stronger.  They will define who you become.  They will help you appreciate the love that surrounds you. 

When I tell you that I have been where you are, I really mean it.  You see, I was always the fat kid that no one wanted to pick for their team. I wasn't good at sports and I never mastered cartwheels.  I wasn't the prettiest, most popular girl in school and I certainly wasn't the one that everyone wanted to be friends with.  I remember wanting so badly to have someone call me their best friend. At about 8 or 9 years old, I also remember how I felt when my friend said to me "I am not your best friend anymore."  I remember feeling so hurt, so betrayed, and so left out. 

But I soon discovered that I was good at some things.  I can play the piano, I can read music, and I can carry a tune.  I can lead...I loved being 4-H president, student council representative, and drum major at school.  I am a good learner and even now as a grown-up I enjoy school. 

Macy, you are a wonderful artist.  Your creativity and ability to design beautiful art amazes me.  You have already mastered that cartwheel and you are beginning to work on that back handspring.  You can play piano, read music, and carry a tune.  You are so smart as evidenced by your straight As and good conduct grades.  You keep us laughing with your silly humor.  Do you know how proud you make me?

Matthew, you are my smart, tenderhearted little boy.  Your straight As and your desire to learn are extraordinary.  The way that you seem to know how to make others feel special is a gift.  You are so good at helping others...I wish you understood how truly unusual that is for a 7 year old.  I stand in awe when I see you offer to carry your friend's backpack because she doesn't feel well.  Your thoughtfulness surpasses your years.  Your love for others inspires me. 

Harris, you are the joy that keeps this family moving.  Your crazy dances and your loud singing wake us up and help us to see the joy in all situations.  You are so loud, yet so tender at times too.  When you tell me "I love you more than I can say" my heart just melts.  Your willingness to go with the flow is appreciated.  Your admiration and affection for your big brother and sister is apparent in all you do.  I am so thankful for you.

My children, when this world tells you that you are not good enough for this sports team or that honors club or that cheer squad or this music group...I want you to remember that you were chosen.  You were chosen by the Creator of the stars and the moon.  You were chosen by the One that makes the birds sing.  You were chosen by the Maker of all good things.  And you were chosen by me.  Your value is not in the things of this world, but in the One that gave you to me. 

I love you more,

Mama

Isaiah 43:10
"You are my witnesses," declares the Lord, " and my servant whom I have chosen, so that you may know and believe me and understand that I am he."

1 Samuel 16:7 But the LORD said to Samuel, "Do not consider his appearance or his height, for I have rejected him. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart."

 

Concussions Are Good!

That's right.  Thank goodness for concussions.  You see, a concussion is much better than all the horrible ideas swarming around in my head.  Last night my oldest son, Matt, enjoyed practicing with his 2nd grade football team just like he does every Monday afternoon.  Only this time, the hit that jarred his head was enough to land him in the Emergency Room. 

After the hit, my strong boy felt fine and didn't mentioned it to anyone. He continued to play with his teammates for about 30 minutes until his head starting hurting so badly that he began to cry.  He told his coach who then told Scott who was coaching another group of boys.  He complained of a severe headache and kept saying he "couldn't breathe good".  Within five minutes, Matt was vomiting right there on the practice field.  Scott brought him home immediately not quite sure what was going on. 

You know how we moms just know when something's not right?  The mother's intuition that God gives each of us did not fail me last night.  I could tell by the paleness on my sweet boy's face and the look in his eyes that this was not "just a bug" and he didn't "just get too hot" at practice.  Something was wrong.  And then he vomited again.  This was one of those moments as a Mom that my mind could not slow down.  Something is very wrong.

We are fortunate to have a pediatrician's group that offers night and weekend hours.  When I called to tell them that we needed to bring Matt in, I was greeted with "I'm sorry, but the pediatrician here tonight just got called into an emergency C-section."  Are you kidding me?  In my mind I was screaming "BUT MY CHILD HAS AN EMERGENCY TOO!"  I decided to call a friend of mine whose husband is an orthopedic doctor.  I know that this probably sounds crazy to many of you, but you have to realize that Scott and I were still trying to piece it all together.  But I must say when my friend said "Amy, you need to take him to the E.R.  Don't wait.  Take him on to the E.R. Matt needs a head CT scan.  I'm going to call ahead to tell them you are coming."  I seriously got scared. 

Scott loaded him up and off they went. I managed to get Macy and Harris to bed before I broke down.  Question after question began to spin around in my head.  How could this happen?  Why did I let him play football?  What kind of mother am I to not take him straight to the emergency room?

I prayed the entire time they were gone.  As I prayed, I asked God for protection and healing for Matt, wisdom for the doctors, and strength for Scott.  I can't begin to describe how God spoke to me during those two hours. Trust me.  Trust me.  Trust me.  Over and over, in only the way God can. He repeated those words ever so softly.

His power is supernatural and his faithfulness is unending.  I received a text from Scott after the CT scan that simply said "Everything is good!!  The CT scan does not show any swelling or bleeding."  Indeed, everything is good.  My God is good.  My son is good.  And for today, concussions are good.

I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.  Those who look to him are radiant, their faces are never covered with shame.  this poor man called, and the Lord heard him; he saved him out of all his troubles.  The angel of the Lord encamps around those who fear him, and he delivers them.  Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.  Psalm 34: 4 - 8