Thoughts on Easter

It might seem as though I’ve given up on writing. Well, I haven’t exactly. With Jeff working again, it seems I have turned into some kind of Turbo Mom, and I love it. I think part of my newly zooming life revolves around the fact that I feel so much better about life.

I’ve always dressed up on Sundays for church because that’s just what we did growing up. With a dad as a pastor in small rural southern communities, he was cut from the cloth that you put on your best for God’s day. Even when I felt my poorest, I still managed to perk up a bit for Sundays. But, with the iron infusions behind me, these last couple of weeks have seen a marked improvement in my energy levels. I nap for less than an hour, instead of the 2-3 hours, and I actually fix my hair and sometimes put on makeup on days other than Sunday.

I've even been allowed, this last month, to go down to 6 days a week of TPN, instead of 7. I did well maintaining my weight but last week did me in. I picked a day where I was so busy, I didn't get a chance to eat every two hours. I wound up losing about 4 pounds instead of the normal 2. I've not been able to gain them back. My dietician told me we may have to go back to 7 days a week (at least for awhile) if I lose any more weight. I pray not for I love my day off. It's wonderful. Last night, I skipped. I even ate half a hamburger *from Braum's since they make them with 100% beef*, a few fries, and a few sips of Sprite. IT STAYED IN ALL NIGHT. Nothing has stayed in all night in forever....and to think part of a hamburger did, well, it's nothing short of a miracle and a reminder that God is still at work in my intestine. Amen?!?

The first week Jeff went back to work was really hard for me. I’d forgotten how demanding being a mom was, and it didn’t help that I still wasn’t back to my post-procedure top percentage. I was grouchy, growly, and just plain stressed. We ate out quite a few times that week because I just didn’t think I could get dinner together. All of that, thankfully, has improved, and we’re staying busy with soccer (NOT a favorite of Gideon’s) and now t-ball (which he’s loving).

Soccer was such an issue, I almost let him quit, but then I remembered my parents never let me quit anything. I asked, begged, and pleaded to play soccer when I was in the 4th or 5th grade. Things weren’t so ridiculously competitive back then, so even though there was no girl’s team for me to play on, my parents reluctantly let me play on a boy’s team. I hated it. I wasn’t very good, and I didn’t like to play sports I wasn’t good at. My silky slinky soccer shorts were always riding up in all the wrong places and mean boys from another team even tripped me, ON PURPOSE, during one game. I wanted to quit, but my parents made me see the season through. I then went on to play softball, tennis, and volleyball, and loved those sports, so it really shouldn’t surprise me that my own son disliked soccer from the beginning.

The first game Gideon was “that” kid who, as soon as he was put in position, ran off the field crying. Frankly, it was somewhat embarrassing at first because my children are “good” children in public (for the most part). They behave in Sunday school, at preschool, etc. They are very social and make friends on any playground. So, it was not how I’d foreseen the first game would go. After I got over my embarrassment, I realized he couldn’t quit. The coach asked us what we wanted to do, and I very intelligently, just shrugged. This was a new dilemma beyond my mothering skills so far. Anyway, she put Gideon back in at goalie, and let Jeff stand back there with him. He stayed in the game. The next couple of games he ran off crying again, but I told him for every time he ran off, I’d march him back on (which was true at practice, too).

Perseverance is hard, and this soccer thing was hard on Gideon, me, and Jeff (well, not so much when he went back to work and couldn’t be at practices or games). One mom a couple games ago, went on the field with Gideon and when the ball came near him she’d run off the field and yell for him. It was a great help to me, since I was trying to keep up with the two girls by myself. Remember, this is a four-year-old team. I later found out that the other team complained to the referee and he forced her, very unwillingly, off the field. She’s a fiery one and apparently, had a few choice things to say to the other team parents. She told me about it the next week, and I was immediately incensed…because he’s a child, for heaven’s sake! Errrggghhh. Competition is good and healthy, but at this age, the game is all about creating confidence, and if I’d have known what was going on, I may have had a few things to say myself.

Anyway, this last Saturday, I am proud to say that Gideon stayed in the entire game. Did he participate on the field? No. But, he stayed on and crowd-watched as the game went on behind him. Did he participate as goalie? Yes! Immense satisfaction filled my heart as I realized a small victory had been made. And then I was ashamed that I’d ever been embarrassed that he’d run off the field crying. He’s my son and I love him.
I started thinking about perseverance. Scripture, specifically Romans 5:3-4, tells us that “3 we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope.” How true is that, not only in my life with what I’ve been through and continue to struggle with, but also what I’m teaching my young son, though he may not be fully aware of it yet.

The greatest thing in the life of a believer is the hope that resides in our hearts as a result of our faith in Christ’s great sacrifice, realized today, this Good Friday, when he willingly went to the cross for our sins. When we lose sight of that eternal hope, we become fixated on ourselves and our own problems. We are inundated with self and can’t see beyond our own needs. We become crippled Christians which affects not only ourselves, but our families, our testimonies, and our church families. (This is another blog all together for another day)

What I’m trying to get at is that in this small way, by not allowing Gideon to give up because soccer created fears in him and it was somewhat painful and scary, Jeff and I are training him for perseverance in life, specifically in the Christian life we pray he will desire for his own. Will we force him to play soccer another year? Probably not because he’s fallen in love with t-ball, and that’s okay, too. But, will he play in this last game tomorrow. You betcha!

Will we all gather Sunday morning to celebrate our Eternal Hope, Jesus Christ, on his day of resurrection?!? Yes, and will we explain to him, again, why we have hope, why this day is so very important, and what it takes to claim it as his own? Yes, indeed.
Persevere, my suffering friends, for it is producing steadfast character, shaping you as you stand the test of your trial. Christ is ultimately after your heart, and he will allow trials to sculpt it to his own likeness. Do not lose sight of the hope that dwells in your heart. Remember this weekend and the Savior who loves you, who died for you, and who overcame death to offer you eternal life found only in him. He is risen!