"not willing"

"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!"

We're still in the thick of it with the flu around here. Last night around midnight Matt and I woke to the sound of crying, and very quickly realized it was Krassi. We usually don't hear anything from him during the night, so we knew things were not normal. Matt got to him before I did (he was still feeling better than I was, in addition to the fact that he's not pregnant so he can get up and moving quicker in the night than I can anyway!) and although he had calmed slightly by the time I got to them, he was still clearly very agitated, very uncomfortable, and not breathing very well. We decided to set me up on the couch to hold him upright to give him a better chance to breathe more comfortably, sending Matt back upstairs with the cell phone so I could call him if I needed (my voice was too hoarse to be heard out of the room, much less up the stairs!) so he could monitor Reuben for seizures.

It took Krassi about an hour and a half to calm enough to fall asleep, but once again, I got to hold my "baby" while he slept. From 2am until 6am he and I dozed on and off together on the couch, with a short visit from Matt at 4am to see how we were doing. 

It was during that interlude that Matt shared how Jesus' words above (recorded in both Matthew and Luke) were very ringing in his head as he watched little Krassi in my arms. 

Krassi does not welcome physical affection. Being held and snuggled, something that all four of our other children are still seeking out every day in some form, is something that is so foreign to him that it often appears to be more distressing to him than being left alone. 

Every time this sick, feverish, achy little boy surfaced in my arms that night, he would use every bit of his (minimal) strength to push me away, pulling his arm out from where I had it tucked behind my back to snuggle him close and support him, and pushing that hand against my chest as he reached to grab for something - anything - with his far hand. 

Where do you think you're going, little boy of mine? You want so badly to do this all by yourself, to be independent, but where is it going to get you? If I let you have your way, and release my hold on you, you will "all by yourself" fall headfirst off the couch onto the hard floor, very likely breaking at least some of your fragile bones in the process. Even if you don't break anything, dear boy, all you will succeed in doing is making yourself bruised, cold, and alone. And horizontal again, making your breathing even more labored. Dear Krassi, where do you think you're going to go all by yourself? "I don't need you, mom!"

This is one of those moments when being a parent makes the word pictures in the Bible come vividly to life. We are so ready to fill him up with all of the love and affection of a mother and father for their son, but he is not willing to receive it. But that doesn't have to make us stop trying. ;)

Sorry, little boy, you have a mommy and a daddy now, and you do not have to do this on your own!

By 6am I was not happy with the direction of the pattern of his breathing, so after a short consult with our clinic's on-call doctor and a call up to Matt's phone (which coincided with Reuben's third seizure of the night, so it took him a few minutes to get down!) we decided that a trip to the ER just to be sure Krassi's lungs were doing alright was a wise move. [FYI - getting to the ER between 6am and 7am is highly recommended. In my still rather limited experience, I have NEVER had to wait more than a few minutes to be seen when I arrive with a child at that time of day! So, next time you plan an emergency, now you know...] The doc's opinion was croup - nothing deep down - so gave him a single-dose steroid for comfort, and said the best thing for Krassi was spending a few minutes here and there out breathing cold air. ;) We've got plenty of that around here these days! (For those of you who aren't from MN, we've had school closings again for high temps below zero.)

So we got to go home, and were back by 8:30am, and I was beat, so spent my third day in a row on the couch. Matt was down, too, as was Leah. Owen spent most of the day on a couch in his jammies, too, but also managed to pour cereal and milk for the younger kids and bring water and tissues to me and Matt as needed. I only got up to feed Krassi and change diapers.

And all of this is a rather round about way to get to sharing with you another really special photo (taken by Owen, since Matt and I were both down!)

Look who fell asleep snuggled up with Dad! Again, this mostly shows you how very very wiped out Krassi is, and would be very misleading to suggest that he did this because he wanted it, or liked it, but he was whimpering a little on the floor, and showing signs of being very drowsy, so Matt dragged himself off the couch, grabbed his boy, and laid down, and very quickly they were both asleep.

I know it doesn't count in the same way that Krassi choosing this as a form of comfort would, but I've got to think that there's some level of awareness even while we sleep that has to give this boy just a hint of what it is to be snuggled up on Daddy's chest, listening to the comforting sound of Daddy's big strong heart beating. 

We'll take these times however they come. It will take a long time to overcome a nine-year lifetime of other patterns of comfort and soothing, but I'm still hoping that someday Krassi will be willing to take comfort in our arms.

And the work before us is to simply keep holding out that offer to him.