Yesterday morning, I took my daughter to the fair to care for her rabbit, and I got the car stuck in the mud. As I was trying to get us un-stuck, I broke out into a panic attack; shaking and hyperventilating all within a millisecond of my realization that something was amiss. Right in front of Carina. How debasing.
My daughter took on the persona of the responsible adult while I was having my attack. She adopted a nonchalant attitude, making light of the situation, and caring for me. As if I hadn’t been humbled enough lately. I had to be cared-for by my twelve-year-old daughter.
When I finally got myself together, we exited the car and ran immediately into my best friend’s husband. Although I have expressed my disgust with being a damsel in distress, sometimes there is benefit in having a strong man rescue you. So I was indeed rescued in a timely fashion, and my car was parked legally within moments.
My friend’s husband was gracious, and with the only insult of being called a “city girl,” I figured I got out easy. But I wondered what the effect was on my daughter.
On our way home, I asked her what she thought happened to me. She said simply that she saw me have an “anxiety attack,” wording that is not from me. Later, I discovered that the term came from my husband to explain to the kids what one of my problems is.
Her opinion of the entire situation…”I’ve gotten rather used to it.” Ouch. When did I become the charity case of the family? When did my children start caring for me? Have I aged them prematurely because of my difficulties? I think back to the time when they found me huddling in the basement after a dissociative episode and feel so guilty that they had to be exposed to that.
So here I am looking for the positive in this situation…after being in a situation where my daughter hid information from me (another story), I find myself flayed open in front of her. Example in the works? I guess so. An opportunity to talk about a serious situation instead of ignoring it? Most definitely.
But the take-away lesson for me is simple: God provides. When I was near-collapse with only a child for help, an angel in the form of a friend was sent to me. A friend who knows all about hysterical women and how to deal with them (if you met my best friend, you’d know what I’m talking about). It’s a simple thing, really, for God to place people in certain places and times to do his will and provide for the needy. Simple for God. Inexplicably complex for me. If you begin thinking about all the timing that was involved in their family and our family, with their barn animals, the choice of who was going to go get the feed, which way was chosen to walk, how long goodbyes were at home, how long it took to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich…the list goes on and on. An infinite number of events leading to a few seconds of time where a “chance” encounter occurred. If that doesn’t show God’s omnipotence, then I don’t know what does.
What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, not be so preoccupied with getting so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep yourself in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met. Don’t be afraid of missing out. You’re my dearest friends! The Father wants to give you the very kingdom itself. Luke 12:29-32(MSG)
I want to be “steeped” in God-reality; to see beyond the curtain of human needs and concerns and walk in faith that my Father is always, always looking out for me even when it doesn’t appear that way to me.
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