It's Called a Cliche Because it's ...Bunk

Originally published July 16, 2014

Three weeks ago something happened with Shelby that I have not, as yet, been able to write about.  I'm not sure if that's because it was scary, or because I didn't want to alarm anyone, or simply because I was embarrassed.  But here goes.  I doubled Shelby's evening medications.  After the build-up I gave it, you were probably expecting something to sound much more dramatic.  But before you tune out from boredom, let me 'splain (in the words of the great swordsman Inigo Montoya).  Shelby takes A LOT of medication.  Anti-convulsants, sleep aids, and allergy OTC's.  Before bed time she takes 3 different - and might I add potent - seizure medications, zyrtec, melatonin, and a prescription sleep aid dose that is so large that the on-call neurologist didn't initially believe my report!  As my husband says, a double dose should be enough to bring down a horse.  

Chuck and I are usually pretty good about double checking each other to make sure Shelby's meds are been given appropriately.  But this particular day, I had undergone a minor back surgery (I'm claiming I was still under the effects of anesthesia).  We take the precaution of separating her drugs into a pill dispenser labeled with days and times of doses, but I was obviously distracted when I looked at it and saw that the Friday night dose was still there.  So I gave it to Shelby.  The problem is that it was Thursday night.  I was off by a day, and hence, off by a mile.  I mentioned to Chuck that I had given her the drugs and his eyes expanded in diameter.  "I already gave them to her," he said.  The truth unfolded slowly in my brain, like a nightmare.  I called the on-call line for Cook Children's Hospital.  The doctor wanted us to head to the emergency room so she could be admitted for observation overnight.  His fear was that all these sedating medications would put her so deeply asleep that she wouldn't be able to protect her airway and would stop breathing.  Nice.  This is what I did to my child.  And since I was newly recouperating, it was Daddy Doctor Chuck to the rescue.  He got the pleasure of sleeping on a hospital cot and waking every couple of hours for vitals.  (And do you know with all that medication Shelby still had several seizures during the night?  But that's neither here nor there.)

Have you heard the expression (I'm sure meant to be an encouragement), "God only gives special kids to special people"?  In light of the event I just shared and more additional insidents than I would carecxz to remember, allow me to weigh in on this:  Bull-ona.  That is some serious caca, folks.  Bologna, made of bull.  Permit me to counter with a cliche I believe to be much more accurate.  "God doesn't call the equipped.  He equips the called."  This is applicable to so many areas of life.  But I know without a doubt, that I am no more special than anyone else.  And who knows me better than me?  And yet I have had so many people tell me that they could never handle the challenges of my life the way I do.  Ridiculous!  You could probably do it better!  Or different.  But at least as well.  When we lean into God, regardless of the circumstances, He gives us what we need.  You don't have to be smart enough, patient enough, strong enough, or wise enough.  He makes you enough!  I have been listening to "The Gifts of Imperfection" by Brene Brown on audio.  Something she wrote in the book has implanted itself on my heart and I'm struggling to internalize it.  "We need to stop hustling for our worthiness and just accept it."  Accept it.  Though none of us is worthy or deserving of anything on our own, trust in Christ MAKES us worthy.  All we have to do is accept it.  Accept HIM!  There is rest in that.  No matter what difficult road we find ourselves trudging down, we can't cover the miles on our own  He makes us able.  He makes us worthy.  And there is nothing we can do to earn it.  We only have to accept it.