“The one permanent emotion of the inferior man is fear--fear of the unknown, the complex, the inexplicable. What he wants above everything else is safety.”—Henry Louis Mencken
Friends,
Fear can be a horrible companion. It is deceptive, has a horrible sense of scale, and can make the most reasonable of actions seem crazy. Kathryn and I are constantly trying (sometimes with success—sometimes without) to tamp down the ever-present fear that we have about our sweet E and her conditions. I guess it’s a part of being a parent, and trying to keep your constant worry about your kids’ safety and well-being in check to allow them to actually experience life. But, man, is it difficult to not go to that well of worry and sit a while—drinking in the fear of what could happen!
Adding to our silly worry-palooza is the extra bonus of the absolute inability for anyone in the medical or scientific field to give any indication about what to expect with Elizabeth as she grows. Now, we’re not mad about that at all (in fact, we think it’s a very cool and awesome way in which God reminds us of who is in control here—and who will guide us in this journey!), but, seriously, if we hear another good doctor say as she or he shrugs their shoulders, “Well, we have never seen anyone with half of this stuff live this long. We don’t know what to expect. We’re stumped.” I might have to scream a bit. We’ve heard just this from a couple of beloved and trusted doctors this week—and while I know they meant well—it took me to the well again.
Now, Kathryn, as many of you know, is a force of nature. She is a lady of action—she does not suffer fools at all—and she accomplishes more in a half-hour than I can seem to get done in a week. She is stronger than anyone I know and has been a rock during this entire experience. She handles the twists and turns of Elizabeth’s medical mystery with a grace I can only hope to copy. She has taught herself the ins and outs of all the potential diagnoses, regularly silences multi-degreed specialist doctors with her seemingly vast knowledge of complex medical syndromes and symptomology, and is a seemingly fearless advocate for her childrens’ care and safety. Woe be to the unsuspecting fool who dares to cross her if it involves Caroline, Michael or E! Trust me, it won’t end well for you…
Conversely, I don’t handle the worry and fear that well. I internalize it. Let it soak. Marinate in it. I hate to admit this, but the “man” in me thinks that it is good to keep all my fears and worries inside so that I stupidly think I can keep them under “control”. I’m always trying to think ahead to the possible outcomes to see how best to handle it. It’s like some really demented chess game I play with myself to no good end. I’m sure that there’s years of psycho-therapy in my future to address this, but that will have to wait for now…
Anyway, now that you all know a little more about how Kathryn and I process all this stuff, on to this weekend… Kathryn and I had decided a few weeks ago that our family needed to take a little vacation. It has been too long since we have left the zip code and the kids were getting antsy. It is that truly magical time of year right now where Caroline and Michael are finishing up school and are apparently mentally preparing to wreak havoc on the homefront for the summer. Our carefully calibrated schedule and balancing of responsibilities is completely shot. Parties celebrating completion of the last week of school, graduation, finishing up sports seasons, and apparently any other gathering of elementary age children abound. Couple that with swimming lessons, tennis lessons, summer camp applications, talent shows, field days, rodeo round ups, and spontaneous lemonade stands and any feeble attempt to bring order to the chaos simply falls to the wayside. So, once we collapsed at 12:30 one evening after a particularly entropy filled day, Kathryn and I decided to take the crew to San Antonio to go to Sea World and see the Alamo for a quick weekend.
We have learned—the hard way—that Rowan family trips really need to be semi-spontaneous. Frankly, if Elizabeth is doing well and hasn’t thrown a curve ball to us all medically in several days, we figure we need to go while the going is good. (See? That ever-present fear/worry is even dictating our trip schedules.) So, we booked a hotel room, I took Friday afternoon off and we pointed the car south. We had a great time. It was crazy, busy, and cramped. The kids got to see lots of things they had never seen. We had a fun experience as a full family. It was a precious time. Here is a picture of my three rebels in front of the very example of principled rebellion:
But, just as we were preparing to leave for San Antonio--that Thursday night—Elizabeth got grumpy. Now, let me explain that a bit. Elizabeth is the most wonderful diva—she can express her displeasure with the best of them—and is a consummate pro in letting people know what she thinks and if she is less than enthused at the circumstance. But, that always passes. She is not fussy. She is not a wailer. We are blessed by that. But, on Thursday night, she was wailing! She was crying all night like she hurt bad. She wouldn’t eat—refused to be consoled. This was NOT normal. Her face was flushed (maybe because of the wailing) and she seemed to be running a little fever. She was just not herself. Now, to any other normal parent, this would have been unusual but not overly worrying. Maybe she had an ear infection coming on…maybe she was fighting a cold…etc. But, in our house, and based upon our last couple of years, such an easy explanation was not in the cards. That ever present worry well was filling up fast…my mind immediately went to what it could be in our “Elizabeth vocabulary”…maybe her hemangioma was beginning to involute again (cue LaserFest 2011); or she was not processing her medicine like she should (cue Spontaneous Static Seizure-fest 2010) or maybe this was another way she was choosing to exhibit that her epilepsy medicine was having the side effect of eating her red blood cells and causing hemostasis (cue Transfusion-fest 2012); or maybe it was something completely new and unforeseen…the possibilities were endless and none of them seemed to be good. As I held Elizabeth and tried to console her a bit, I began to tamp the fear back down…began to internalize it…let it marinate.
Kathryn was also reacting to this new side of E. She talked me through the possibilities, and settled on most likely an ear infection. She faced her fears and determined their origin. She processed it and moved forward. As I have said to many of you, I can learn so much from Kathryn and should have done so then. But, I didn’t. I was determined to play my mental chess game…
We both decided that we simply could not postpone the trip because of a fussy Elizabeth and soldiered on. We had a great time. E was good and enjoyed the time with Caroline and Michael. She was a trooper and her fussiness was present, but not overarching. She seemed very content to be with her family and enjoy the new experiences.
(Like the very comfortable feather bed!)
She wasn’t eating like she usually does, and since her food includes her medicine, Kathryn and I became a little worried, but had seen worse. (cue Bottle Banishment 2011) All in all, the kernel of worry was placed in the back of our minds where it should have been all along.
However, when we returned, the fussiness amped up a bit and my well of worry began to fill again. I was determined not to say anything because it would serve no purpose. I just marinated in the myriad possibilities.
Cut ahead to Tuesday. Kathryn texted me at work about logistics on getting to Caroline’s talent show. At the end of the text she said, “PS all is well but may have found culprit to e’s fussiness” My mind reeled. I’m sad to say that in that moment, my tamped down fears took hold. The possibilities swirled. I began to steel myself up for a new discovery. I let the worry win. Now, I know that you all are saying, “But, Matt, seriously, Kathryn said all was well. You’re being stupid.” --and frankly, you are right! But, I think what this shows is that when you let worry and fear dictate your thoughts—when you make the silly decision to let your fears control your reactions—logic seems to be thrown out a bit. Plus, God is in control—always! I should have rested in Him and not let my worry overwhelm me. But, I didn’t.
"There are very few monsters who warrant the fear we have in them"—Andre Gide
So, I drove home trying to not think about what “it” could be. Not going there in my mind (which only meant that I went there multiple times)! When I got home, Kathryn greeted me at the door with a grin. I felt better just seeing that, but still was nervous. I came in and E was sleeping on the couch—mouth open, snoring gently. When I got to her, Kathryn jokingly said, “Well, what do you see?” I’m slow to the up-take on my best day. I shrugged. And, then she showed me. Elizabeth Leigh Rowan, two years and one month old, had cut her first tooth!
And, so I laughed (and cried) and sat there amazed at how—once again—God had used a simple thing like a baby’s first tooth to show me how to put all of this in focus. It is funny—and very encouraging—to see how God can use our silly fears and worries to bring about a wonderful insight into His plan and His love for us. We had been told by many doctors that, due to Elizabeth’s conditions and growth pattern, it was very likely that she would never have teeth come in. I guess it goes with this whole glacial growth thing. Frankly, Kathryn and I had resigned ourselves to that fact months and months ago. It just wasn’t in the realm of our expectations any more. And, yet, God had it planned all along. He decided-in His ultimate wisdom-to bring that tooth in when He wanted it. And, to let it be a lesson to that silly, worrier of a dad of hers that he needs to quit going “there” in his mind, because “here” is much better place!
There’s a lesson here—somewhere. Everyone worries, everyone deals with their fears. But, isn’t is great that we serve a God who can take those worries and fears (and all the silly pent-up drama surrounding them) and replace them with a simple glimpse into His plan for you. All you have to do is let Him. Safety is not the organized control of circumstances in your life. It is simply the calm peace that comes in knowing you have handed your fears over to someone who can truly handle them.
Thanks to all of you who continue to pray for our sweet E. She is doing great—truly! And who knows, maybe we’ll have a second tooth by Christmas! ;)
