Plunge

Yesterday, Lydia and Selah put on their swimsuits and proceeded to pretend to go swimming.  They were delighted, squealing and chattering as they swept their arms through the air as if they were gliding through water.  They delighted us too, their sweet little voices filling the house as they cheered each other on in their adventure.  Their joy, their grins were captivating and contagious.

Unfortunately, if I am really honest, I am afraid and so triggered by most things surrounding water.  The pool, the smell of chlorine, my own swimsuit, puddle jumpers, pictures and videos of my Haddy swimming, and so many other things incite uncontrollable reactions within me.  Heavens, the list is longer than I care to share.  Although I have seen improvement in the severity of my reactions, my heartbeat quickens, my chest feels tight, and my stomach turns into knots.  Sometimes I get nauseous.  Occasionally, I have panic attacks and weep uncontrollably.  I wish I had more of an idea when all of these severe, sweeping emotions would pummel my mind and body.  

With all of that struggle, I suppose I am still wondering if I will ever be able to enjoy water in the same way.  That is a very real secondary loss for me.  This morning, though, their joy confronted the turmoil in my heart.  The absence of fear in their hearts and the presence of sheer delight at the thought of swimming brought deep resolve to keep pressing into my fear.

As I sat in awe of my God through my girl’s play, I started thinking. You know what I gathered?  I am already fighting.  I have been in the pool more than a couple handfuls of times since my Haddy went Home.  Most of those visits weren’t glamorous.  In fact, they were raw and I was delicate, fragile to say the least.  Yet, with great resolve this morning, I came to this conclusion.  I am committed to facing my fear for God’s glory, for the good of my children, and even have a glimmer of hope it will be for my own pleasure someday.  

I do want to clarify.  I don’t feel afraid that I will die, and I am not consumed with fear that another child will drown.  Rather, my heart and mind return to the trauma, and it feels so crushing that all I want to do is escape the thing that has triggered me.  PTSD is real.  It isn't an excuse or a made up reaction to justify strange behavior.  Rather, it is the brain's response to trauma.  When someone tells you they have PTSD, please believe them and honor them as they endure.  The Mayo Clinic website defines it like this.  Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a mental health condition that's triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event.  With many experiences ranging in severity over the course of the last six months, I still don't want to succumb or resign myself in this sweet expression of awe, wonder, play and togetherness.  

The thing is, I have always loved to swim.  Our family makes memories most around water.   I am not ready to give up my passion or the passion of my children because of fear.  I am a strong swimmer and so is Jason.  We have always marveled at God’s goodness at the smell, sound, and sight of the sea.  We both have always had a significant respect for the danger and the wonder.  When guilt or fear rises up in my chest, I reason with myself repetitively.  We weren’t inattentive that day.  I suppose that humbles us both, gripping our hearts and forcing us to grapple with God’s sovereignty.  I reason that God restores and redeems much greater things than this, namely my own heart.  If He can take one wicked heart and transform it for His glory, delivering me from eternal separation from Him, then surely He can cultivate resilience, trust, and rest in me when I am near water.  

Today, as I listened to these two beauties play, I felt another nudge by my good God to trust Him, to forge ahead in this journey.  My hope is that I can once again feel a sense of wonder, awe, and pleasure from something that God has used to settle my soul.  I want my children to enjoy and embrace the awe and wonder just the same.  I don’t want them to live in fear.  They will if I model that.  It’s time to take my kids swimming again.  It's time to preach these truths from God's Word to my aching, conflicted heart.

Psalm 42

As a deer pants for flowing streams,
    so pants my soul for you, O God.
² My soul thirsts for God,
    for the living God.
When shall I come and appear before God?^[b]
3 My tears have been my food
    day and night,
while they say to me all the day long,
    “Where is your God?”
⁴ These things I remember,
    as I pour out my soul:
how I would go with the throng
    and lead them in procession to the house of God
with glad shouts and songs of praise,
    a multitude keeping festival.

⁵ Why are you cast down, O my soul,
    and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
    my salvation^{[c] 6} and my God.

My soul is cast down within me;
    therefore I remember you
from the land of Jordan and of Hermon,
    from Mount Mizar.
⁷ Deep calls to deep
    at the roar of your waterfalls;
all your breakers and your waves
    have gone over me.
⁸ By day the Lord commands his steadfast love,
    and at night his song is with me,
    a prayer to the God of my life.
⁹ I say to God, my rock:
    “Why have you forgotten me?
Why do I go mourning
    because of the oppression of the enemy?”
¹⁰ As with a deadly wound in my bones,
    my adversaries taunt me,
while they say to me all the day long,
    “Where is your God?”

¹¹ Why are you cast down, O my soul,
    and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
    my salvation and my God.

Do you hear that?  David is preaching to his aching soul, reminding himself that God's steadfast love never leaves him and in the night His song is with him.  We so often feel surrounded by darkness, afraid of a future without our Haddy, knowing it will always include significant pain.  Yet, this Psalm is like a balm to soul.  Verse 7 just astounds me.  I feel that verse in ways that I don't know how to wrap words around.  In the uncontrollable thoughts of PTSD, in the moments I dance with guilt or blame, and even when my heart feels pulverized by the death of my little charmer, my God is my hope and my salvation.  He is my deliverer, my ever present help in a time of trouble.  So, here I am.  I will turn my eyes to the One who holds the keys to death (Revelation 1:18), and I will ask again for wisdom, hope, trust, and delight in the beauty of God's creation.  I want this for His glory, for my family, and for the pleasure I once had plunging through the water, resting in it's weight.  I may be asking for a whole lot.  It may take me years, even a lifetime to attain, but I know He's not done with me yet. 

Will you pray with me for God to nestle us into bigger trust in Him?  Will you pray that God cultivates endurance and perseverance in us?  Above all, will you ask that God be glorified above all in our family?  We want purpose in our pain, that God would receive all glory for any progress or healing that happens within us.  We are confident He has us in His grip, carrying us through the furnace of affliction, but sometimes we falter and begin to claim small successes for ourselves.  Will you pray against pride, against the enemy's schemes to destroy us?  

How are you wrestling through hard things?  I know I am not alone in my suffering.  If you struggle with PTSD, will you begin to explore avenues that promote healing and hope?  Will you dive into God's Word with me and let Him do His bidding.  Will you consider facing some of your fears too?  Will you share them with me so that we can spur each other on?  My heart may be broken, but I am not alone and neither are you.  Step into a sweet community of faith, and let the steadfast love of the Lord be manifested in your life.