A Fracture and an Invitation

I completely forgot today was Ash Wednesday.

Yesterday, our sweet almost 1-year-old fell during a routine walking spree and cried big tears, but I had no idea what was wrong. Until I tried to put him down. That’s when we noticed he couldn’t bear weight on his right leg. The snow came and went and we decided since he wasn’t crying he might have a bruised something or another. We slept on it, or tried to, but in the morning, after a horrible night, he seemed worse and not better.

My go-to is panic. The health and safety of my kids has been at the forefront of my anxiety for 12 years now. I can’t deal when little ones are sick. At all. I can’t think about anything else and I feel the need to “do something” constantly to help them be well again. I want to fix it immediately because I’m a worst-case-scenario-jumper-to.

But as you and I both know, as powerful as mommy is, she cannot fix it all. And this drives me nuts.

I get the same way with work and conflict. I want everything in line today. I want the relationship restored right now. I will drive myself and my dear husband crazy trying to worry my way into making all things right with the world. It has yet to work.

Last year, on Ash Wednesday, Harry was born. This year on Ash Wednesday I spent time once again at the doctor’s office with him trying to make him well. His leg has a fracture and will need a cast to heal properly. I’m not sure how long this will be, but it’s possible that it won’t be until Easter that he is healthy again. Have mercy.

My frantic pace lately has left me dry in so many ways. Running a business that requires work on US and India time; trying to make space for writing again; not to mention the fact that I have five little ones who need me to be present (more than I am, I’m sure!) and honestly I feel ragged. And I’ve been snappy. Oh my. Lack of sleep and creative space and I feel the drain deep in my soul.

So perhaps, instead of thinking the worst of our situation with this little baby in a cast, I can look at it as an invitation to remember this season of Lent and give up trying to do it all. I can love on my littles more and give them better pieces of me instead scraps. Harry with his cast is going to need me more than he already does (unless he figures out how to walk with it as well–oh I hope not!) and I need to be able to give it without feeling like it’s one more thing. Because he’s not one more thing. He’s one of the most important things. And as much as I love that my kids get see me passionate and working, I never want them to think they come second to it. Never.

This year’s Lenten season looks different than last year’s in so many ways, and hallelujah for not being 9 months pregnant for this one! But the essence of what this time of year asks of us is the same… a soft calling to slow down, remember well and fill up on Jesus and all that he offers to those who draw close and fix our eyes on him.



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