Are You Too Tired to Heal?

by jphilo | Mar 15, 2013 | Different Dream, Self-Care and Stress, Special Needs Parenting

Are You Too Tired to Heal?

Do special needs care giving demands leave you exhausted? Are you numb with grief? Guest blogger Rebekah Benimoff knows how you feel—too tired to heal, too tired to hope.

To Tired to Heal

Sometimes it feels as if I am too tired to heal. I just want to get away for a bit, to have a much-needed respite from the madness. When life is spinning out of control, it’s hard to work through the losses that have come before. Often there seem to be many stops and starts along the way. Sometimes the best case scenario is simply staying connected to the One who carries me through. Survival is important, yes, but connection is imperative.

A Cloak of Weariness

Weariness settles over me, like a cloak of dust, penetrating into the inner recesses of my being. When bent low by burdens, I wonder if the weariness will cling to me for life. I want to shrug out from under the careworn mantle, but I know that this time, the only way to find release is through rest.

Fatigue is a part of the healing process. There comes a time when our bodies simply need rest. When dealing with multiple life changes all piling up at once, sorting through seems complicated. I often liken the process to searching through a bowl of tangled spaghetti strands with sauce poured over, obscuring what lies under the surface. I’ve learned to ask, “Why am I feeling what I am feeling?” and “What, exactly am I really feeling?” Most of the time anger is a mask, hiding more vulnerable feelings beneath. I feel more in control when I am angry than when I feel lost or abandoned. Anger is easier to admit to, for who wants to admit to being broken? Yet “broken” is often a better descriptor of where I am, and what exactly I am feeling.

Loss Mingled with Hope

My story is one of loss mingled with hope. In my mind’s eye, I travel back to that moment when my world first stopped. When my son’s life, and mine, changed forever. One word, meant to diagnose, alters everything. I did not grieve the first diagnosis for a very long time. I made it my mission to defeat the disease. To conquer the diabetes. To control the boy’s blood sugar. To control everything. Nothing was gonna hurt my baby again. Or me.

Three years later, when my husband was deployed to Iraq (for the second time), I was at the end of my rope. I signed up for an inner healing study, and the work began. Slowly, the layers were removed until we came to that tender place—the wound… the diagnosis that changed everything I do daily. It was during this time that God drew my heart to a familiar story in a fresh way. I read how Abraham and Isaac journeyed up a sacred mountain to make a sacrifice that would break body and soul. Isaac carried the wood, and Abraham carried HOPE. He tells the servants, “We will go up the mountain and we will return.”

My First Step Toward Healing

And then I felt the urging to place my own beloved son on the altar before Jehovah-Jireh, my provider. I envisioned laying my precious child on the altar before a loving father God, and in my mind’s eye, he took my son and cradled him. Surrender was my first step towards healing. And still is. In those times when one diagnosis (or several at once) are causing upheaval in my daily life, it’s time to search out that well worn path to the altar. When I release my hold on the illusion of control, I am set free. Set free to find hope, set free to do the good work of healing. Through prayer, introspection, good counsel, and times of rest, I move forward to that place of greater wholeness. Sometimes it is hard work. But, at the end of the day I find that healing is worth the work, and rest is the vehicle that allows the work of healing to carry on.

What about You?

Do you feel too tired to heal today? Or have you taken that first step on your journey toward healing? Leave a comment about your journey, and I will pray for you.

photo credit: www.freedigitalphotos.net

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Rebekah Benimoff is the wife of a husband with PTSD and the mother of two young men, both of whom grew up with medical and special needs. She blogs at In the Chaos…. and In the Calm (justmemama.blogspot.com).

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Safe Harbor for Special Needs Parents

Safe harbor can be a hard place to find for parents raising kids with special needs. In the poem below, guest blogger Stephanie Ballard describes her search for safety and her gratitude for what she learned along the way.

In Need of Safe Harbor

I sat on a hill looking out at the endless blue waves on a recent trip to Lake Michigan. I wondered where the water met its end. “I cannot remember the last time I had quiet time to myself to simply think,” I told my friend while rubbing my hands over the silky white sand. I feel at peace here, watching the waves roll in with a steady assurance. Life has changed since my son Braeden was born with multiple health issues. Sometimes I am so tired that I wonder where I will continue to get strength for the battles that lie ahead. I can only hope that my source of comfort and hope is as endless as the water that helped to ease my fears and uncertainties that day. Either way…I am forever changed since he came into my life. I am also surprisingly grateful.

Safe Harbor

What happened to that woman,
Carefree and naïve?
Who said good things will always come,
To those that just believe.
Her quiet…calm assurance,
Left no room for defeat,
With faith that was unwavering,
Endless and complete.
Providence had given her,
The strength to face a trial,
She faced each day with courage,
Taking time to stop and smile.

And then the storm clouds hovered,
The thunder rolled her way,
Adversity had found her,
The billowing clouds turned to grey.
A few brief words would bring the news,
No one should have to hear,
Something was wrong with her child,
Can there be a greater fear?

The lightning flashed,
The storm grew strong,
The walls began to shake,
“Oh Lord,” she said, “this storm’s too strong;
I believe my heart might break.”
The rain poured down on window sills,
Branches swayed like a sailor at sea,
The woman held her child close,
Saying, “Please do not take him from me.”
Some wondered if her faith was weak,
While some said, “keep believing.”
But people don’t always have answers,
And some words aren’t worth receiving.
And then she heard a whisper,
As the whipping winds seemed to demand,
The faith that she barely clutched onto,
This was NOT the life she had planned!
“My child I know of your heartache,
For this storm has been fierce and demanding,
You wonder if you have any strength left at all,
But do you not see…you’re still standing?
I didn’t expect your unwavering strength,
For I know that you don’t understand,
I just ask for an arm held high;
Please reach out for my hand!”
People will say many things,
(As people are so prone)
But any storm you face in life,
“You’ll never face alone”.

What happened to that woman?
Who stood against the storm?
While wind, and rain, raged harsh and long,
Against her fragile form,
What happened to that woman?
With little left to give?
God opened up her heart one day,
And taught her how to live.

~Stephanie Ballard

What’s Your Safe Harbor?

Have you found your way to safe harbor? Are you still looking? Leave a comment about your search.

If you enjoyed Steph’s poem, you might like some of her other guest posts: Teachers in Room 16, Thank You! and How I’d Like to Write Your Story.

Do you like what you see at DifferentDream.com? You can receive more great content by subscribing to the quarterly Different Dream newsletter and signing up for the daily RSS feed delivered to your email inbox. You can sign up for the first in the pop up box and the second at the bottom of this page.

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Stephanie Ballard is the mother of two sons, her youngest son, Braeden, was born with Kabuki Syndrome and congenital heart defects. Her oldest son, Colin is in the military. She enjoys writing poetry and life lessons about her journey in life.