trapped

It happens every now and then, and infrequently enough that it catches me completely by surprise when it does. This time it hit on a Sunday morning. We finally managed to all get out the door, a few minutes later than I like to (a good thing Matt's not teaching an adult Sunday School class this term! Not a nice thing for the teacher to get there late on the first week!) and don't even have the chance to decompress together, Matt and I, after hurried harried words to each other, because we don't all fit in one vehicle, so I drive the van and he drives the car.
Half way there I see her - a mother, out for a walk with her child in a stroller. And BAM it chokes me in the center of my chest as I realize I can't do that. Something as simple as taking a walk with my child on a beautiful sunny morning is out of my reach. I spend so much time and mental energy juggling the pieces that I have to juggle - meals, laundry, diapers - and all the various restrictions that my children have - naps, physical limitations, cognitive limitations - that sometimes I can't keep up.

God has ways of speaking in these moments. Our pastor was preaching on Psalm 10 that morning. It was not his main point, but toward the end of the sermon he touched on the first verse of that Psalm - God, where are you? Why aren't you here when I'm in trouble? - and commented on how it's possible to have a gap between our feelings and reality.

What were my feelings telling me? "You're trapped. You can't do it. You'll never be able to do what you want or be the mom you want to be for these kids."

And in the shadowy hole I was in the best I could do to fight back against those lies was a feeble recognition that they weren't true, and the vague memory that God has given me the life that I have and that he is good. And that's all - just a cold, hard fact without any substance for me to hold onto.

~~

A number of  years ago I picked up a book from our church library by John Piper called Battling Unbelief. It's basic premise is that the root of all sin is a failure to believe in the promises God has made to us, and thus, the  battle against sin in our lives is in reality a battle against unbelief, and the way we fight that battle is to fight for faith in the grace that God is holding out to us. This has been such a freeing concept for me in its single-focus nature. The faith that saves us is the same thing that sets us free from the power of sin in our day to day life. Anyway, this is relevant because I purchased copies of the book for the members of our small group to read in their spare time, and after our Bible study on the last Friday, one member asked if he could read one of the chapters that he and his wife were finally getting to. The chapter? Battling Despondency.

~~

God, what's going on? I'm trapped! I feel like I have my arms tied behind my back and am helpless to act! [fight it, Andrea, fight it - you know that's not what's true...]

That same Sunday morning we sang a song with the refrain:

More than watchman for the morning I will wait for you my God

When my fears come with no warning, in your word I put my trust

This is, of course, right from Psalm 130, which I think I have referenced before. It's good enough to repeat it again:

Out of the depths I have cried to You, O LORD.
Lord, hear my voice!
          Let Your ears be attentive
          To the voice of my supplications.
If You, LORD, should mark iniquities,
          O Lord, who could stand?
But there is forgiveness with You,
          That You may be feared.
I wait for the LORD, my soul does wait,
          And in His word do I hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
          More than the watchmen for the morning;
          Indeed, more than the watchmen for the morning.
O Israel, hope in the LORD;
          For with the LORD there is lovingkindness,
          And with Him is abundant redemption.
And He will redeem Israel
          From all his iniquities.

Recognizing my own failings as a part of where I was emotionally, this Psalm is particularly encouraging - with him there is forgiveness! redemption! There is hope!

No resolution, but it was at least something to battle with.

~~

Then came Monday. Another day with incredible, beautiful weather. The intensity of that moment on the way to church has faded, but I'm still in the shadow of it. I went down to pick Reuben up from the bus, and walked up the driveway with him thinking what a great day this would be to go to a playground! And it all came tumbling back. I can't. I'm stuck. I can't just "go to a playground." Seriously - Vania's up and will need to nap soon. Rinnah's napping, and will be waking up soon. Reuben is hit or miss - going anywhere without walls with a non-verbal wanderer is no insignificant undertaking. And Krassi - how can I do Krassi justice if we *do* manage to get to a park and I'm holding Vania and Reuben's running off (and needing, as usual, physical cues to come back.) Poor guy's going to have to just sit in his wagon again, because I can't let him down on the ground - there's too much paved surface there, and he'll do what he always does near pavement and drag himself over to it, and then pull himself across it and scrape himself up and not realize he's doing it. And anyway, even if I could get to a playground I can't because then who will make supper? We're having pork chops and roasted potatoes. I can have Matt put the pork chops in the oven, but I can't cut up the potatoes and leave them sitting there waiting - they'll turn black. Yuck.

I'm stuck. I'm trapped in this house! I can't ever leave it, not even into my own yard! What kind of a life am I giving my kids? I can't do it all!

Lies. In particular, the lie behind these thoughts that was fighting to be believed is that what I'm doing is not good enough. And, like the best lies, it was full of things that are true. But lies, nonetheless. And again I was fumbling to hear it, to fight against the lie and instead hold onto the truth that God has given me this life, and that what God does for his children is good and for their good.


Mashed potatoes. I can mash the potatoes, and then they can sit in water while they wait and they won't turn black. Vania's getting tired - let's lay her down and wake up Rin and let's do it! (Thankful again that Matt works from home so I can lay the baby down and leave the house!)

Rinnah and her baby

Reuben is getting so adept at climbing - AND his attention and ability to stay by the playground equipment has also dramatically improved from a year ago.

I had arms free, so Krassi got to play on the equipment!

This is how he gets around - no wonder the muscles in that right shoulder are so well developed! He's heading toward a slide. ;)

Leah can climb on anything she wants to this year.

And Owen was excited about the great route of paths through this particular park.

It would be easy to look at those photos and think there was an automatic happy ending to the story - saved by mashed potatoes! (And a good nap out of Evania.) But that would be a false read. Although without a doubt I see that lovely hour at the playground as a smile from my Daddy, an hour at the playground is not the way to fight this battle - it addresses the symptoms, but not the core.

~~

I found Krassi here that same Monday.

Krassi, who has always had a great interest in the addition, was delighted to find that we'd moved the piece of wood that had propped up against this opening, and that he could now lay on the bare subfloor.

Does that look like a boy who feels "trapped" inside the house?

I didn't think so.

This photo, now, looks like a photo of a boy who feels trapped.

An early photo of Krassi taken right about the time that God began to tell us to start moving toward adoption - months before we first saw his picture and began pursuing him.

Moments like these give me a real flesh-and-blood counter to the feelings threatening to keep me in their grip.

Tuesday was a turning point. I know very well why God instructs his people to gather together, to carry each other's burdens, and to strive together for the faith of the gospel.* It started in the morning when I had a chance to share my struggle briefly with Reuben's physical therapist who was able to both be a listening ear as I confessed aloud that my own lack of time filling myself with God's words had made me weak, had brought me to a place where the strength to fight was low. He's also always one to remind me to look for the goodness of God in my life in the here-and-now - that the wanting of these things (wanting to be outside with my children on a beautiful day) in itself is not wrong! I left the center that morning with a sharper vision of where the battle lay.

Later that day I took the time to email a dear friend who lives just far enough away that getting ourselves (and our eleven-almost-twelve children between us) together doesn't happen as often as we wish. What a faithful friend - her reply was so healing for me! She shared similar sentiments of feeling trapped, for her by severely debilitating morning (all day!) sickness, but didn't end there - she used that as a starting point from which to share her own weapons for the battle. Here are some of her words to me:

So isn't is GOOD to look beyond our "feelings" and KNOW that what is IMPOSSIBLE with man is POSSIBLE with God?

I'm certainly not suggesting that if we pray enough and have enough faith that our "genie god" will pop up and grant our every wish, but it IS likely our real Father God may do something beyond what we can ask or imagine...as we wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.

You have my prayers, dear sister.  Don't rush the healing work God is doing in your heart.

~~~

Wednesday morning I woke and made a point of feeding my soul - hard to do my due diligence in battle if I don't eat, right? It was a pretty pathetic attempt, because physical fatigue is a very real part of our life (going to bed is not always restful, thanks to Reuben), but it was something.

That afternoon the kids and I were all piled into Owen and Krassi's room finishing up some history reading for the day. As we finished I gave Reuben the heads up that we'd have to go out in a few minutes, in an effort to ease the transition (he loves Owen's room, and transitions of any sort are tough for him.) Argh. The words were out too late - he immediately starts signing "outside? outside?" thinking that's what I'd meant by out. As I started to sink I thought, why not? and asked if he'd like to go for a short walk in the wagon. Yes. That was acceptable. So I piled him and Krassi into the wagon in their hoodies because of the brisk wind, and on a whim asked Leah if she could take Vania for a little bit so I didn't have to bring her out into the cold. That dear girl happily obliged, and I got to take a short walk! Just like that! In the middle of the day!!! With my two little hooded boys in the wagon!

As I'm (finally!) writing this almost a week later, I am almost brought to tears. Do you see that? I got to take a walk!

Please don't misunderstand me - the taking of the walk, just like the going to park, was NOT the solution to my slide toward despair. That battle is and always will be one of choosing to believe that God is good and right in what he does, and that being trapped or not does not need to have any bearing on where my contentment comes from. But I do also want to remember that in the midst of my struggle, my God in his bountiful goodness delivered me from the struggle AND gave me the things I was desiring.

How can I help but stand in awe and admiration of a God like that?

* see Hebrews 10:25 and Galatians 6:2 and Philippians 1:27