We’ll Get Through This

We’ll get through this.

 Those are the words I was about to type for the beginning of this post when the tornado siren blew. I grabbed my computer and phone and ran through the kitchen toward the basement apartment where our daughter and her family live.

She met me on the stairs. “Mom, tell the construction crew to come inside.”

10 minutes earlier  they’d been in the footing trenches for our house addition, building forms so the pumper truck could pour concrete. Now they were running through driving rain to their truck.

I opened the front door and flagged them down. Soon my daughter, my son-in-law, my grandkids and I were sharing the basement with 4 strangers sheltering from the storm together.

None of us had masks. We stayed as far from one another as we could, and we watched as the storm intensified. The electricity flickered and went out. A doe and fawn ran across the back pasture desperate for cover.

The construction workers called to see how their families were. My husband called from work to see how we were. “We’re okay,” I said. “We’ll get through this.”

After a half hour, the storm let up and the construction guys left. “Let’s hope no one gets COVID,” I said once they were gone. “We had to choose between possible death for them and a slight risk of sickness for us,” my daughter replied. “We made the right choice.”

We went upstairs a few minutes later and found trees down, our yard light down, electrical lines down. Miraculously not one branch had landed on our house, our camper, or our cars. The damage was a new bead to add to the string of challenges weathered by our family over the years.

My mom’s family survived the Great Depression by shooting pigeons and raising vegetables. She was in high school during World War 2.

My parents weren’t even 30 when Dad was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. Mom furthered her education while teaching school, raising 3 kids, and caring for Dad.

My husband and I cared for our medically-fragile baby while living 70 miles from a hospital. That baby lived with PTSD for 26 years before it was diagnosed and treated.

Floods, blizzards, ice storms and more in our 43 years of marriage.

Now this unusually ferocious and widespread rain, wind, lightening, and thunderstorm. In the middle of a pandemic. While building an addition onto our house.

Our family, like yours, has an ever-growing string of challenges. I, perhaps unlike you, have doubted God’s goodness during the worst bits of them. But in every case, once the bead is knotted in place, I look back and recognize the same two life-giving truths.

God was present with us from beginning to end. And our faith is the stronger for it.

This morning, still without electricity, my husband headed outside to cut up branches and haul them away. On his way out the door, he smiled and said, “We’ll get through this.”

With all my heart, I want you to know that what my husband said is true. Whatever your hardship or challenge is today, be very sure that you will too.

Nevertheless, the righteous shall hold to his way,

And he who has clean hands shall grow stronger and stronger.

Job 17:9

Jolene Philo is the author of the Different Dream series for parents of kids with special needs. She speaks at parenting and special needs conferences around the country. She recently co-authored Sharing Love Abundantly in Special Needs Families: The 5 Love Languages® for Parents Raising Children with Disabilities with Dr. Gary Chapman. Her blog for parents raising children with special needs and disabilities can be found at www.DifferentDream.com.

Is It Okay To Fear?

Is it okay to fear?

This is a question I keep finding myself asking, especially with the current COVID-19 pandemic. As I talk with other people and watch posts on social media, I see an unspoken tension between families who are fearful about the current health pandemic and those who say, “Do not fear and be courageous.”

Families fear for their parents or spouses that fall in the high risk category. Mothers are fearful for their spouses and children who have “essential” jobs and still have to go out. Parents are fearful of losing their jobs or how to provide for their families if they have lost their jobs. Moms and dads are fearful of how to protect their medically fragile children and make sure they have what they need whether that is medication, special equipment or even special food for restricted diets.

I remember standing in church singing, “There’s No Fear In Love.” This is a direct quote from the first sentence 1 John 4:18. The entirety of this passage reads:

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."

Every time I sang this song, I would internally scoff and think, “Really…no fear.” Then I would get irritated as I thought of those who received a new diagnosis for their child and were scared or found themselves in a situation that was out of their control such as a job loss, cancer diagnosis or myriad of other fear inducing scenarios. I would half-heartedly sing through the song and move on.

If you look at the verse leading up to 1 John 4:18, it says the following:

“This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus.”

“There’s no fear in love” refers to the day of judgement. Those who have a relationship with God through His son, Jesus, do not have to fear on the day of judgement.

So back to the original question. Is it okay to fear? Yes…but. 

God created our emotions, including fear. Fear can serve a beneficial purpose. It can help trigger that fight or flight response. If a lion starts to chase you, fear pushes you to take action and to try to escape. It is like the warning light on your dash that tells you something needs to happen. If you ignore that low fuel light for long, you will find that your car will stop moving.

That light on your car’s dash makes you pause and put together a plan. You mentally go through the check list of determining how far you can go, when you will fill up and what gas station you will stop at to get gas. A plan is put in place.

Similarly, when fear lights up on our internal dashboard it should make us pause, figure out why it is showing up and then determine our response or action plan. 

You may be thinking to yourself, you said, “Yes…but” when you asked if it is okay to fear. What is the “but.”

Have you ever watched a YouTube video or National Geographic show where a giant predator starts to attack its prey and the prey freezes in place? This is when fear becomes bad. When fear becomes all-consuming to the point that we are frozen in inaction.

It is also bad when it becomes chronic. When we live in a chronic state of  “fight and flight”, our bodies will respond negatively. It will negatively affect our emotional, physical, and spiritual health.

So what can we do when we see that dash light? Next week we will look at four steps to walk through when we start to feel fearful.

As you look at how you are doing during this time, are there any dash board lights going off? If you are married or have children, do you see any warning lights going on with your family members?

Written by Jonathan McGuire

Jonathan McGuire  is  the father of two sons and the co-founder of Hope Anew, a nonprofit that comes alongside the parents of children impacted by disability on a spiritual and emotional level. You can follow Hope Anew on Facebook here.

Hope Anew has launched the Hope Anew Online Community and would love to have you be a part of it! You can learn more at www.HopeAnew.com. Due to COVID-19, all membership fees have been waived.

It's Not All On You

I didn’t dare move a muscle. Breathe in, breathe out, quiet, shallow, in, out. Don’t move. My son was finally asleep cradled in my arms against my chest. If I could just not move or breathe, maybe, just maybe he would sleep for 15-20 minutes and for that 15-20 minutes there would be no screaming and he wouldn’t feel the pain and I could rest – sort of.

Once, as a young mom, I remember saying to a more experienced mom, “God has given my son to me to care for and love on this earth. But, he isn’t really mine. He’s God’s. It’s my job to love him well.” She murmured words of agreement as her eyebrows rose and a somewhat sad, knowing half-smile filled her face. It was several years later I learned she had lost her eldest child in an accident many years before, long before I knew her, and I finally realized the significance of that knowing smile. 

Somewhere between the time I made that statement and the birth of my second child with the entry of additional needs in our lives I forgot those wise words and the perspective I had once held. Somehow, I took upon myself the weight and responsibility for how my son’s health journey progressed, how comfortable he was or wasn’t, for trying to alleviate his pain, and when I couldn’t, for comforting him and being with him every moment through his pain.   

His pain never stopped, so neither did I. I didn’t give myself a moment to rest because he had needs. Do I regret being there for him, comforting him, and doing everything I could do to help his body heal? No, not for an instant. But, I do wish I hadn’t carried the weight of it on my shoulders, especially to the extent that I never gave myself a break. This dear, beloved, hurting child wasn’t solely my child. He was ultimately God’s child.

Isn’t God so much more powerful than I am anyway? I couldn’t do much to change my son’s situation or stop his pain. But I could entrust him to the One who created him, who knew every one of his days before he was even conceived, who loved him so much He suffered and died for him, who was powerful enough to conquer death, who knows the number of hairs on my son’s head, and collects all his tears (all 24 hours/day worth of them) in a bottle. I could be His arms holding and comforting this precious boy, God’s love in action, but the future and outcomes are in His control, not mine. Sometimes, I could also step back and allow someone else’s arms to hold him while I took a break and got some rest.

If you’re feeling overwhelmed. If you are carrying the weight of your child’s health challenges, diagnosis, and future. If you are so weighed down you cannot rest or take a break, remember this child is God’s child. Ask Him for a way forward, for help in caring for His dear, beloved child. Then, take a step back on occasion and trust.

Written by Sarah McGuire

Sarah McGuire  is the Mom of two boys and co-founder of Hope Anew, a nonprofit that comes alongside the parents of children impacted by disability on a spiritual and emotional level. You can follow Hope Anew on Facebook here.