Learning to Walk Again . . .

I wish I could remember what it was like when I was learning how to walk.  Most of us have been on the other side of that process.  We've been the one encouraging, prodding, cheering and celebrating.  I can still remember very vividly each one of my kids' first steps.  But those first steps were preceded by weeks and months full of smaller milestones.  You start by holding your own head up, followed by rolling over, then sitting up on your own, continuing by getting on all fours, holding yourself upright on your knees, then pulling up to stand, cruising furniture, and finally some form of actually letting go and taking those first few steps.

Those first steps are awkward.  They are exhilarating.  They are terrifying--and that's from the parent's perspective.  Can you imagine being the child and truly understanding what was happening as you go for those first steps?  You have no concept of this whole process that's led up to this point.  You don't understand all the work that's gotten you to this point . . . but the parents do.  All you know is that you're tired of holding on to things and it's time to let go.  It's time to move the way everyone else around you is moving.  It's time to take that first step.  

You can see it on the child's face.  If you've ever had the privilege of being the one "catching" the child as they take their first steps, you know what I'm talking about.  It's that face that's so full of fear--yet at the same time full of uncontainable excitement--and those two emotions wrestle for dominance with every step.  But the one catching feels the same emotions.  With each step you just know he's going to lose it.  He's going to fall.  With one step he begins to sway, but then he catches himself.  The next step he completes as if he's been doing this for years.  Each step leaves you on the edge of your seat.  And then . . . that most incredible feeling of your child making it all the way into your outstretched arms.  He reaches for you and you swallow him up in your arms.  You both share the joy of this moment, which will be etched in your memory forever.   

In some ways I feel like I'm learning to walk again.  Just taking a step is terrifying at times.  Will my legs hold me?  Will I fall?  Can I let go and do this on my own?  Will anyone be there to catch me?  Is it worth it?  Maybe I'll just keep crawling.  That's pretty safe.  But maybe I'll miss out on something.  

The fog can be debilitating.  At times it paralyzing.  I feel so numb most of the time.  I'm not really sure how I feel or even how I should feel.  I find myself doing odd things and thinking odd things.  I catch myself daydreaming a lot.  I'll be driving down the road and then can't remember anything about the last couple of miles.  I don't want it to hurt so bad, but when I laugh or smile I feel guilty.  His memory is constantly there, but when I go a few minutes without really thinking about him I feel guilty.  

My memory has been terrible.  I'll see someone I've known for years and suddenly can't remember their name.  I'll try to recall the details of a conversation I had earlier in the day and they are completely elusive.  I think about him constantly.  The details of finding him that morning replay in my mind continuously.  I see people throughout the day and wonder how in the world their life can just go on like nothing ever happened.  We still tiptoe past his room when the door is closed so we don't wake him up from his nap.  I can hear him scooting down the hallway and calling "Da Da."  I can see him throwing a ball to me and laughing as I fall to the floor to humor him.  And I still keep thinking that at any point I'm going to wake up.  

We are trying to walk again.  We want to walk again.  It's terrifying.  

With each potential step we are overcome with fear.  But with each step we are experiencing the peace, joy, humility, and exhilaration which can only come from a walk with the Creator.  HE is walking with us.  HE is there to catch us.  HE is bigger than this.  HE can see the whole process.  We don't understand it.  But we don't have to.  We just have to trust HIM.  We just have to take one step at a time.

Thank you for walking with us.