Team Chari: Motherhood Unplugged

"I assumed motherhood was all about balance.  But I am learning it has more to do with discernment--recognizing which proverbial balls to juggle, which to drop and when to sing silly songs on the way to school even though she clogged the toilet and I have a wad of almond butter stuck in my hair." - Lisa Harper

So. It's mother's day.  For some reason this day sneaks up on me every year.  Certainly I have more to celebrate on Mother's Day this year than any other before it.  My heart is full.  Full of love given and love received: by a husband that is worthy of all the bragging I do about him, by children who give me a reason to persevere and by family and friends who are more than I deserve.

And yet.

There is a sadness.   A deep down, quiet sadness that remembers.  It remembers 11 Mother's Days lost.  16 Mother's Days as an orphan.  My heart remembers in the secret place that stays hidden, the place that wants to be healed, but also wants to be left alone because healing hurts.  Healing requires doing the work. Revisiting the saddest places.

The truth is, I lost my mother long before she died.  Before I lost her in a house fire, I lost her to addiction.  11 years went by wondering if she would get healthy.  If she would come back for us. Those years were the hardest.  I can't believe I am typing these words, but it is easier to explain that my mother is dead than it is to explain that she didn't raise me because of her addiction.

I long for that story to change.  For my mother to have mothered me.  To have pictures to post on facebook of me and the woman who gave me life.  I have a few memories of her.  I have a few little girl pictures somewhere.  But bringing them up cause my heart to revisit the loss and the enormous sadness of it all.  I loved her and she left.

My littlest girl Vivienne is 15 months old.  She knows the love of two parents who work tirelessly to keep her safe, protected and loved.  Vivi has known no great loss yet.  And it is evident-- in the way she giggles loudly, moves freely and trusts willingly.

My big girl, Ru has experienced life's greatest loss.  She knows nothing of her first family.  She knows no one who looks like her, No one who can tell the stories of her first moments.  Her heart longs to giggle loudly, move freely and trust willingly and yet something holds her back.  A sense that we live in a world in which all is not as it should be.  The knowledge that there was once a family, before this one, that she has lost.

It is the greatest joy to love these girls.  To be their mother is the best and hardest thing I have ever done.

This mother's day felt different.  Ru was so excited about cards she had made-- at school and church. Treats she had baked at school.  Presents they had made with daddy.  She wanted to give them to me early, each day, not being able to wait!

And still.

When the day rolled around, she participated in all we did.  She hugged me. She watched me with Vivi.  And she was visibly sad.

And that's ok.

While Vivi napped, I cuddled with Ru and we talked about missing our first mommies.  We acknowledged that sadness and grief do not erase the love we have for each other.  That we can miss one mommy and love another at the same time.  I told her stories about growing up with my grandma and how I missed my mommy so much it made my stomach hurt, and yet I loved my grandma so much,

Motherhood is hard.  It requires being present and being ready.  It requires healing.  If I really hid from the work I need to do in the sad places of my heart, I wouldn't be able to be fully present for my little girl in conversations like these.  We cannot take our kids to a place of healing we have not experienced for ourselves.

Motherhood is beautiful. It is special.  It is worth it.

By the grace of God my children will have a different story because I am willing to do the hard work of healing.

Revive: Where we tell our untold stories.

"We need to look hard at the stories we create, and wrestle with them. Retell and retell them, and work with them like clay. It is in the retelling and returning that they give us their wisdom." - Marni Gillard

On Wednesday nights, Nyasha and I lead a group of people who are recovering. Recovering from what? Themselves.We work the steps, similar to a 12 step program for any and all hang ups, habits or hurts.

Depression.
Pornography.
Alcohol.
Unhealthy relationships.
Unforgiveness. 
Anxiety.
Drug Addiction.
Anger.
Eating disorders.
Ce-Dependency.  
Sex Addiction.

ANYTHING.

I have been sober from my alcohol and drug addiction for 17 years now.  SEVENTEEN YEARS CLEAN.  I never, ever, ever thought I would say those words.  

People ask why I keep working the steps, why I stay involved with 12 step programs.  The answer is simple, "I still have A LOT to work on." Drugs and alcohol were never really my problem.  They were a symptom of a much larger problem: MYSELF.  

So I am working on myself.  Baby step by baby step.Character defect by Character defect. Sometimes these changes occur quickly, sometimes slowly but they are always in progress.  Be patient with me, I am learning to be patient with myself.  Oh how I have longed for a quick fix.

So on Wednesday night, we gather together, a group of imperfect followers of Jesus and we share our stories.  In the honest telling and retelling we find our way, we find our healing and we find our strength.  In the telling, we are able to clearly hear and see what the Holy Spirit was revealing all along-- it is in our weaknesses that God's perfect strength is revealed. 

In 2 Corinthians 12:9 Paul wrote, "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."

When we share our story; our weaknesses and God's gracious redemption, we give others permission to do the same.  Paul did that, as did Bill W. and Dr. Bob (the founders of AA.) And that is what we try to do each Wednesday night from 6-8 at River of life Eastlea.  Join us if you would like!

Confessions of an imperfect missionary: I live with depression.

At 19 years old I intentionally overdosed and cut my wrists.  I was not confused, I wanted to die.

I didn't die.

What came next was excruciating.  Hospitals and physically healing, but by far, the hardest part of my healing was emotional.  Psychiatric appointments, therapy, rehab, constantly adjusting medications until the right combo could be found for me.... And oh the side effects of those medications.  The dry mouth, the funky metal taste in my mouth, the nausea, the fatigue.  Some of them I have forgotten and some of the side effects make my body tense just thinking about them.  Eventually, the doctors were happy with my prescription and dosage and I was responding well and adjusted to the side effects and life went on.

Some people would say that the medication was a crutch, that it made me weak or that it was a cop out.  There are cruel people, especially in this age of the internet where we can sit behind our screens and toss judgment around cloaked in anonymity,  I will tell you that the medication didn't make me weak....it made it possible for me approach the story of my life from a position of real vulnerability so that I could face that story and walk away victorious: with healing.  I spent years, all of my twenties and now the first half of my thirties, doing Some REALLY hard work for that healing.  I have earned it.  Some of those years required medication to make that possible, and many of them have not.  I am grateful for the science that has contributed to leveling out my brain chemistry so that I could do the work required for healing and I am grateful to God who brought people into my life to help facilitate the healing of my most deep pain and brokenness.

Today is World Mental Health Day.  The goal, I think, is to bring awareness to the fact that people suffer mentally and emotionally... And that these people look like me and you.  These people, my people, do not need more advice-- they need compassion and understanding.  They do not need non-doctors passing out advice about prescriptions nor do they need any more shame.  For at the heart of depression and most mental health issues is deeply rooted shame.

I was 19 when I tried to kill myself.  But the time I graduated university at 22, I was completely off of my medication. I had done intensive work with a fabulous therapist as well as the wonderful people I met through Alcoholics Anonymous.  I felt good about where I was mentally and emotionally.  Then came a big break up, a huge move and the beginning of graduate school stress and madness.  In the midst of my second semester in my MSW program I was flying off the rails.  I knew I had lost my momentum and I was feeling broken and lost.  I sought counseling again and I faced the difficult decision of going back on medication.  The day the therapist recommended medication felt like such a setback.  I felt like a failure.  I was drowning in shame.  Why couldn't I handle my life on life's terms?  A wonderful Christian woman sat with me after an AA meeting while I wept and she gave me beautifully freeing advice, "If you had cancer would taking the treatment feel like failure to you?"  I said no, but depression and cancer are different.  Then she said, "If I stop my cancer treatments I will surely die... Maybe quickly or maybe slowly but it will happen.  If you try to fight this on your own, without treatment, we already know the outcome.  You were 19 the first time this disease almost took you out."

I went back on medication for about 6 months and again found myself in a routine that worked well for me.  When I weaned off the medication at the age of 23, I have never needed it again.  Not because my depression is magically or miraculously gone, there are seasons where I feel its dark grip and I feel afraid.  But, I have been able to catch it early.  I am vulnerable and accountable to people in my life that help me and through diet and exercise and a healthy routine, I have been able to handle my depression without medication.

I have prayed and prayed for my physical and emotional scars to be removed.  I have prayed to be free from depression and what I have learned is that healing comes in many different forms.  Sometimes it is instant and miraculous, sometimes it comes at the hands of medical professionals who are gifted by God to accomplish miraculous feats and sometimes it comes in death, when our souls find peace in a perfect eternity.  My healing has come as a journey.  I have learned to admit honestly what is going on in my world, I have learned to ask for help and I am learning not to be afraid of what form that help comes in.  My faith is in God and He gives me hope.

Today we acknowledge that people in our home, our family and our community need help.  We acknowledge that we might not always know how to provide that help, but we can most certainly offer compassion and a safe place for people like me to be my real self.  The church can and should be a such a place.  My prayer is that every person who seeks a listening ear in the church finds someone as wise, understanding and hospitable as the Christian woman I met in a dingy basement AA meeting! 

 

Answered Prayers and Accomplished Goals

An interesting question was asked by someone I follow on Twitter this week.... He said that he is starting work later in the day than normal this week and his goal is to make it to the gym each morning.  He posted "What is your goal this week?"

I immediately stopped and put everything down and asked myself, what is ONE goal I can set for myself this week that has nothing to do with my current to-do list.

The first thing that popped into my head was that I wanted to do something to help someone that is a complete stranger to me.  So I picked up my phone and replied to his tweet and said, "My goal is to do something to help someone who is currently a stranger to me!"

I then took a few moments to just sit quietly and I asked God to make a way for me to accomplish this goal.  To put a complete stranger in my path that I can help... and not just help like "walk an old granny across the street" kind of help.  I asked boldly for someone to come into contact with me that needed help in a way that clearly I was CREATED to help them with.

Tuesday went by and nothing obvious happened. I went to an AA meeting and met some people, only a few of which were strangers to me, but I didn't help anyone in any way that I could see at least.

Wednesday morning I went to the grocery store. It was the first time in ages that I wasn't annoyed at this task, mainly because I went early in the morning on a week day and the shop was empty!  As I was in the queue at the till, a young man greeted me. He said "Auntie Regina, how are you?" I have no idea who he is, but I said hello and told him I was well and made some small talk until it was my turn to check out.  I paid and then walked to Nyasha's car and loaded my groceries in.

As I was getting ready to drive away, I stopped to load airtime in my phone.  As I did, there was a knock on the window.  This same young man was there and I rolled down the window and he said, "Auntie Regina, if someone wants to stay away from drugs, how do they do that?" and I said what my very first sponsor would have said to me when I was 19 years old and wanted an easy answer, I said "Well I guess they would just stay away from drugs.  It's simple but it's not easy-it's very hard." Then he said, "Well I need help, I just got out of rehab and I need to learn what to do." So I gave him my phone number and said that I've been there, I've learned what he needs to learn and that if he would call me I would introduce him to some guys that have learned how to stay clean to."

By the time I drove those three minutes back to my place, I had thought of what those early times were like. They were horrible.  I had to give up everything I ever loved, I had to reconstruct my whole life in order to stay sober. It was not easy, but it certainly was simple: STAY AWAY from people that use, STAY AWAY from people who sell, STAY AWAY from parties and bars, STAY AWAY from anyone who isn't helping you grow healthier.  I have learned that the only way for a TRUE addict to stay away from what they are addicted to is to STAY NEAR to God.

God answered my prayers that day...and I think he might have answered another persons prayers as well.  Hopefully I will be able to help this young man practice what he learned in rehab...

With Love From Zimbabwe,

Regina

a father's love

I spent this weekend with a group of recovering alcoholics from Southern Africa in a beautiful area of Zimbabwe.  It was just what I needed... 3 days without cell phone service and lots of sunshine and great conversation.

The highlight for me was visiting this little stone chapel, on a cliff overlooking Lake Mutikiwiri.  I was told that I must see it.  When I got there, it took my breath away.  It was a VERY small chapel and the story on the door explained that a daughter had asked her dad to build her a little place to get married in.  He did, and before her wedding day she was killed in an accident.  He finished the little chapel as a memorial of love to his baby girl.

It was so special just to sit in this lovely place and be reminded of what a father's love really means.  For me, I thought of how much God loves me as a father.  As I sat in this chapel overlooking the lake I thought of all of the things God has given me, for no other reason than to show me His love.

A few minutes later a group of Indian men who came from Durban for the convention came into the chapel.  Most of them are Hindu and a couple are atheist.   We talked about the chapel and joked that I should get married there to cut down the guest list and dramatically save money!  Then they got serious and asked me to pray for them.  I was a bit nervous and they said, "Just pray how you normally do, we want you to." So I did.  I closed by saying "In the name of Jesus" and when I looked up these men had big smiles on their faces. 

I reciprocated and asked if they would pray for me and I was met with silence.  One bold man said, "We don't know how to pray, we only know the AA prayers." So we held hands and said the Lord's Prayer and the Serenity Prayer.

It was such a special moment, but I walked away feeling sad.  I am eternally grateful for my relationship with God.  To be able to come to God as my father and speak to Him about anything that is on my heart is a privilege.  It is my desire for everyone I come into contact with to be able to have such relationship with God as well.  The rest of the weekend, every time someone would walk past me when I was in conversation with one of these men, they would stop them and say, "This woman prayed for us" as if it were a precious gift they had been given.

I am so grateful for the reminder that God has given me so many special gifts as a father, but most importantly He gave me himself... and that relationship is by far the most precious gift I have ever received.

Lessons from my life as a 31 year old (Part two)

1.     6. Worshiping in the dark is still worship

I have had some really dark days in my year as a 31 year old.  Difficult days in which love hurt… days in which babies died and good seem to lose out to evil.  Days that hurt deeply and left me wondering where God was.  I am glad that God gives me the opportunity to question because in those moments of doubt He often teaches me something magnificent about His character.  

Throughout these difficult days, I have never stopped trusting Him.  I could still recognize His greatness and I still had a desire to follow Him.  I learned from a very wise woman to, choose the risk of love even in the midst of the worst devastation.  I have learned that when I chose the risk of love, I have never once been disappointed. 

On these days, an album by Chris Tomlin has helped me give words to express my feelings. 

Some of the lyrics that have come from my lips as tears poured from my eyes and my heart worshiped are these:

I lift my hands to believe again

You are my refuge you are my strength

As I pour out my heart these things I remember,

You are faithful God, forever

Let faith arise, Let faith arise

Open my eyes, open my eyes

________________________

Where you go I’ll go. Where you stay I’ll stay

When you move I’ll move. I will follow You.

Who You love I’ll love. How You serve, I’ll serve.

With this life I lose I will follow You.

___________________________

Our God is greater. Our God is stronger

God You are higher than any other.

Our God is healer. Awesome in Power.

Our God, Our God.

And if our God is for us then who could ever stop us?

And if our God is with us then what could stand against us?

And if our God is for us then who could ever stop us?

And if our God is with us then what could stand against us?

I think Rick Warren’s wisdom sums up this lesson for me.  He said, “When you feel abandoned by God yet continue to trust Him, you worship Him in the deepest way.”

2.       7. Difficult does not mean impossible & Possible does not mean easy

“Because a thing seems difficult for you do not think it is impossible” Marcus Aurelius

During my last few days as a 31 year old, I received an email from a friend who said, “Life in Africa is hard… I am amazed that you have lived here for so long now…” I began thinking over my time here and how life in Zimbabwe has been difficult for me.  There have so many moments where I wanted to give up, walk away and return to my “real life”.  But throughout this last year especially, I have learned that difficult is not the same as impossible.  I have found that with God, things that would have been impossible for me, have instead just been difficult.  

The Bible says that “With God all things are possible”  I have learned this to be true, however I’ve also had to accept that this doesn’t mean “With God all things are easy and painless.”

3.       8. It all works together

In my old house in Vic Falls, I had an office and when I would learn a valuable lesson or hear something that I needed to remember I would write it down and stick it to the wall.  I had a wall full of little lessons I wanted to carry with me.  When I moved I pulled many of them down and kept them with me in an envelope.  In my room in Highfields, I did the same thing… around my desk were little notes stuck everywhere on the way. 

 

Recently I have begun working on a project that feels like the BIG ONE.  The thing that all the other things were leading up to.  I know from past experience that God absolutely does use all things together for good and so as I started laying out my thoughts about how to get started on this project, I started thinking back to the lessons I have learned to prepare me for this work.  

I thought about Munya and Bothwell, little boys who stole my heart on the streets of Vic Falls. I thought about their families.  I thought about all of the families I counseled, who have taught me so much. I thought of blind Mr. Who and what his life and struggles showed me.  I thought of ghettoes and villages I have spent years in and the opportunity I have had to learn the ins and outs of the culture, the challenges and the joys of life in Zimbabwe.  I thought of abandoned babies and orphanages and child headed families.  

I didn’t know where to start so I pulled out that old envelope and all those old scraps of paper and I stuck them all around.  One by one they led me to the answers I had been looking for—or in some cases the right questions to ask, and my thoughts came together.  Some of those scraps of paper have been sent around the world by some of you, others are thoughts you sent me in text messages or emails. Some are things that wise old Zimbabwean women have taught me as we sat around a fire cooking or bent over tubs washing clothes.   

One thing I know, not one lesson has been learned in vain and certainly all things work together.

4.       9. Remember the details

I grew up in a church that is fabulous.  My grandma still attends this church weekly, as do some very special friends of mine and it is a joy to church there when I am in Michigan.  The church is big, and I left there a long time ago—when I was 17.  I did not know the pastor personally, but I sent him an email because I wanted to thank him for his life’s work… to thank him for providing a place for me to learn some of the fundamental truths that have led me to where I am today.  I had the pleasure of having several meetings with him as I was back and forth to Michigan this year.  

In one meeting my heart broke and I wept telling him one of the stories that changed my life here -the story of baby Edward’s death.  

Edward was an abandoned baby that I spent months holding, loving and feeding until one week when he got a fever.  Edward lived his entire life in a hospital and yet he died because of lack of medical care.  When I walked in to check on him one morning I was told that he was dead from an infection, rage filled me.  When Nyasha and I had left a few hours before that, we had been told that the doctor was coming—as we had been told for a couple of days.

Months later I wept retelling the story because of a painful truth- Edward died because no one cared enough to take care of him. He didn’t die because of lack of medical treatment.  He died because no one loved him enough to ensure access to the things he needed. 

I told Pastor Doug this story and many others as he asked about my work and my life in Zimbabwe.

Weeks later Pastor Doug brought me in front of the congregation to say good-bye as I was heading back to Zimbabwe.  He recounted the story I told him and as he said “baby Edward” my heart jumped.  He remembered his name.  The nurses who cared for him forgot him name within days, and yet this man who never met him remembered. 

I learned a lesson when Pastor Doug remembered the details of this baby's short life… it is often in the little details that we show how much we care for the least of these. 

 A week or so ago I was visiting an orphanage that I often spend time at, and as I arrived there were a group of people there playing with the kids.  They were doing a good thing: playing, cleaning, ironing and giving the overworked mommies a break.  As I greeted each child by name one of the visitors said, “That’s a lot names to remember.” Yes, it is, but when I see the eyes of a child light up when I say his or her name I am taught that it is worth it to remember the detail

Lessons from my life as a 31 year old (Part one)

Tomorrow is my birthday.  I will be welcoming in my life as a 32 year old… Although there are some gray hairs growing in and a few more wrinkles, I don’t really see how 32 looks much different than 31, but as I thought about what I learned this past year I thought I would share some of those lessons here:

1.       1. God loves me. And you. The most. But Equally.

We all long to be treasured.  I long to be treasured. I am treasured. I am God’s favorite possession—I learned that this year, but so are you.  Every single one of us can stand and say that we are the most important thing to God.  It has been pretty life changing for me to allow that reality to wash over me.  Once I began to feel treasured, and to see how much He truly treasures each of us, I no longer needed to be the MOST special… I became far more comfortable sharing that spot with you too!

I am also then free to live out my purpose—because being loved by God leaves me motivated.  Having a purpose –serving God-brings me joy. 

George Bernard Shaw said, “This is true joy in life, the being used up for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy.” 

My true joy doesn’t just come from being loved and treasured.  My true joy comes from doing something with the motivation brought about by the catalyst of love.

2.      

  2. Love can hurt or it can heal. 

I have fallen in love with a song from a movie I saw with my Aunt Laura and cousin Amanda. These two women are so very special to me.  But for a long time I had little to no contact with either of them. When my parents divorced my relationship with my mom’s family fell apart.  The loss of love between my parents had a ripple effect that I still don’t understand.  This song says “You can be hurt by love or healed by the same….timing is everything”

Love is a powerful thing.  The words to this song ring true for me because I have walked through several periods of my life where love has hurt SO badly.  I am walking through one now.   

Mother Teresa said, “I have found the paradox that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.” I believe her.  I believe that when you love someone enough to withstand the difficult times that hurt, you eventually get to a place where the love heals the hurt.  The hurt that love can bring is real.  So is the healing. 

3.        3. Sometimes our past hurts can prevent us from receiving what we want most.

I was recently having a conversation with Nyasha about the love we received from our parents and I was sharing stories about my grandpa.  As I told the stories I could feel how real his love was for me.  But I can also remember as a little girl, feeling differently.  I desperately wanted to be loved, to feel the love of a father and mine was not really around.  When my grandparents would do something to show their love for me (basically every day) I didn’t feel lavished in love.  I felt they were loving me and caring for us out of some obligation they felt.  I was so hurt by the hole my parents left that I couldn’t receive what was being offered to me—even when it was the thing I wanted the most.

Today as God continues to heal the pain from my past hurts, I can feel loved just by sharing a memory.  I wonder how often I have missed the love God has been showing me because of a hurt I am carrying. 

4.       4. Forgiveness costs.

I don’t often watch Oprah, but I caught a show one day when I was in the States and Oprah was telling a girl, “Forgiveness is letting go of what could have been.” I will never forget how my heart opened that day.  Accepting what is. Letting go of what could have been.  Loving someone for who they are, not what you want them to be. That is real love.  It is hard. It is costly.

When I teach my parenting class, I have to teach about marriage as well. I am not married (yet) so I rely on the wisdom of those who are.  An author that I respect says this, “Forgiveness is a decision to give up your perceived or actual right to get even with or hold in debt, someone who has wronged you.” (From fighting for your marriage) It is a decision to sacrifice, it is just as costly as forgetting a financial debt when someone owes you money.  They both cost. 

I read this and think it is beautiful.  It was written by a woman who was publically humiliated when she learned that he husband (a pastor) was having an affair.  “Love is powerful enough to erase a person’s sins.  Love is forgiveness.”

This year I have learned that forgiveness is costly, and yet it brings with is something priceless: peace and freedom and REAL, TRANSFORMING LOVE.

5.       5. We are all Shunamite women

There is a small story about a woman in 2 Kings Chapter 4.  This woman was kind and generous to the prophet Elisah.  He wanted to bless her and found that she didn’t have a son.  So he told her “Next year you will hold your son.” Her response was strange to me.  She said, “Do not lie to me.” I imagine this as her looking at him with immense sadness, saying “I didn’t ask you to go there- why bring up the most painful thing, that deep desire that I have hidden in my heart from everyone, please don’t bring that up- don’t go there.” 

I think I am a Shunamite woman, I think we all are.  I believe we all have deep desires- some of which have not been filled yet.  I think we probably all have something we desire that is so precious to us that we hide it, ignore it, try to detach from it so that we don’t have to feel the pain.  The people closest to us might know not to go there in conversation, or they may not even be privileged to know of that deepest longing.  But we know it’s there: things like career success, restored relationships, marriage, babies--big life things.  We can’t hide from it, we will notice things that remind us that we are missing out.  This woman probably saw babies everywhere she went and it probably hurt.  She may have finally hidden that desire so deep in her heart so she could try to move on.  And then here comes Elisha putting it out in the open, bringing it to the surface and giving her encouragement to hope again.  But she did hope and she got her son. 

To hope again after disappointment is to risk being hurt again.

This year I have learned that I have something in common with this woman...I have a deep desire hidden away from the world.  What I am STILL trying to learn, is how to respond in faith the way she did. 

A few years later when her young son died in her arms, when she looked down and saw her dream that she had held after such a long of  wait fade away.  How would she respond? She placed him in bed and told no one. When her husband asked why she was going to see Elisha she simply said, “It will be well.” 

She didn’t scream and shout about how unfair life was that she waited so long for something, until she finally gave up hope and learned to live without a child, and then this man comes by promising her she will have one and she hoped again.  And NOW her child has been taken from her.  She could have went on and on about the injustice of the situation, but she didn’t.  She went to Elisha and when his servant asked how things are she said again, “It is well.” I think she was afraid that if she spoke of the situation she might explode.  Finally when she saw Elisha she let it out- she asked him “Did I ask you for a son? Didn’t I say to you, ‘Do not deceive me.”  She refused to leave without him and when he arrived home with her, she received a miracle and got her son back.  

What I am hoping to learn is that even when I see the thing I longed the most for die in my arms, to be able to say, “It will be well.”