Journal Entry- 2024-0930

As we were discussing what to do next, to help get him out of the hospital, I asked him “What do you want?”

He replied without hesitation:

“Take [it all] out and let whatever happens happen.

A miserable life is no life at all.”

And his voice quivered and he shut his eyes and closed out the world.

I wanted to cry with him- another dagger to my heart that I have to remind myself to not take personally, but to remember he’s speaking from a place of deep pain.

I tried to offer something of wisdom and encouragement and said that instead of him going to Jesus (he’s told me before he wants to go to Heaven where there’s no pain), let’s ask Jesus to come to him.

That He is strong when we are weak; that he can rest in Him.

And I wonder-

HOW do I make that happen?

How do I help my son see this and use this to his advantage and for his survival?

Have I failed, as his mother, to have him be this age and not have the thinking paths and patterns to get access to this strength I have found in the knowledge and presence of Christ?

Have I failed as his mother bc I did this to him- with all my choices along the way trying to protect him and now this medical outcome is my fault?

No!

I stop my brain from taking me down too.

I say to myself-

“I did the best I could with what I knew.”

This is what people say, but do I believe this?

Yes, my intentions were always good, and God knows this and is still able to work it all out for our good.

Despite me.
Despite Samuel.

And so I move on with today.

What’s next?

I want to cry and curl up and escape today with him.

But I know I need to gather myself and my things and go sit in that hospital kids library and make the phone calls to see what doors can open.

I can’t stop fighting-

fighting my own desires to just quit and let whatever happens happen and join the masses who resort to believing what I do doesn’t matter bc “God’s in control” anyway…