Weighted by worry

Extended summer heat has a way of looming like excess baggage. Waiting and wondering when the weather will change parallels the uncertainty of hurricane predictions. How long? How much damage? How many preparations are necessary? These questions arose during the lurking stomach virus my family endured last week. Will you escape it's wrath or are all the precautions pointless?
Instead of weather weight, I've found myself carrying a familiar worry for one of my sons' physical weight. My third-born continues to vacillate between appearing healthy and thriving and lacking energy to play due to his constant low appetite and stomach pains. Every day is a wonder...which child will wake today?
I recently prided myself on overcoming the fears I once held through forced confrontation. After many years of heavy burdens through pregnancy struggles, Levi's little life, and losing many things I once loved, I thought I had conquered all my fears. Yet I failed to see the many names worry wears.
Worry has a way of warping. It camouflages and calls itself insurance. Insurance is a necessary part of increasing possessions. Those living near large bodies of water know full-well the weight of flood insurance. Money is given ahead of storms in order to help lesson the load if and when the real hurricane hits. The future protection gives breathing room in the present uncertainties. The invention of insurance now seems invaluable, but when worry disguises itself as warranty, it is more destructive than a category 4 hurricane.
Roman had a strange "stomach virus" two weeks ago that later unveiled itself to be part of his GI issues. We have been waiting and watching for his tummy trials to turn severe before rescheduling his colonoscopy/endoscopy. Thus, when he was the first hit with last week's virus, I was ready to head to the ER and request immediate procedures in search of some overdue answers. BUT the rest of us (minus little Luca, who had just returned from the hospital), soon fell hard with the same bug quickly changing my concerns. As we have lingered in our lethargic state, I feel physically lighter, but emotionally heavier. I am still trying to pour all my preparedness into precautions. Canning, purchasing sand bags, and filling up gas cans, I am storing up for the next hurricane and pouring all my "money" into helping my kids maintain weight and health, yet I'm actually taking hours off my own life.

Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? (Luke 12:25)

I used to believe I no longer worried because I didn't store up food and clothes while concerning myself with having enough stuff. Trusting God's provisions in all areas of my life feels after facing many of my fears, so I must not have any unwarranted worries anymore, right? Wrong.
I saw Jesus' words in new light today. He pointed his disciples away from the needless worry of having enough food and clothing, but I have concerned myself with whether or not Roman will eat enough food and fit into his clothes enough. I'm storing up cans of worry in a different manner, but the underlying issue is all the same. I've stopped trusting in His perfect plan.
How did I quickly revert to my old ways? At what point did I forget his miraculous hand on my second son's weight worries? Why must I lose heart and carry a burden I was never intended to carry? Because I am human, and I need a Savior. Because He wants to carry it for me. Because only then can I help carry the burdens of others. When parents see my joy through repeated children's hospital visits, I can assure them God has seen me through many heavy, hard days. The burden can be light if we let it go, and we must let it go over and over again. We can trust in a greater purpose than storing up superfluous cans and sand bags. While preparedness isn't wrong, there is a fine line between insurance and angst. We will never perfectly predict a hurricane's path because we are not in control of the weather. Likewise, we will never need to perfectly prepare for any other life disaster because we are not in control. The storms will come, and God will always prepare us for His good in His own perfect way. It's a faith that comes only through trials by fire and storms. A faith that is more precious than a perfect fall day!

We hoped to wave goodbye to summer heat at the lake, but it has lingered well into September. 

Luca's joy at the hospital is much more contagious than my own!

The burden of blood clot has given him a trust that I never knew as a child. 

We were both ready to see if his internal birthmark grew while off medicine.

Unfortunately it did grow to cover 20 percent of his airway, which meant an unexpected overnight at CHOA.

We watched, we waited, and we enjoyed alone time together.

The docs collaborated and decided that because he has no breathing issues, we will not return to meds and watch him for two months before scoping again in November. 

After weathering the stomach virus, we all put our minds to sweeter days to come. We will venture out west in two weeks for a two week-long work/family trip, and hiking in Yosemite with a baby on my back meant birthday hiking shoes! Silas said he "set up a great pre-hiking pic for me." Not bad buddy!  Maybe he should set up all our family poses out west! We can't wait! 

We have tried many different options with Roman including dietary changes, incentives, blood work, stool samples, and there's not much left but to put him under. Please pray that God would make it obvious what we need to do to help him or simply watch him without carrying his weight with us. May we have the patience and peace when he refuses to eat, and move forward in the wise way. Also, please pray that Luca's hemangioma doesn't grow anymore while we are away from our docs, and Levi's falls due to right-sided weakness would decrease (especially when hiking!). He has his own special hand weight that we can increase or decrease weight as he strengthens. If only we could learn to do the same with our worries.

Thank you so much for praying with us! We cannot carry our weights alone.

~Weighted Buster