Sunday, June 9, 2013

And I celebrated

I love social media.
Pinterest. Twitter. Facebook. Instagram. Blogging.
But this week, I had to break.
And I had to break fast.
I really do love social media.
I love connecting with high school friends,
and keeping up with family whose lives have carried them to different parts of the world.
I love meeting people who share my love for the Lord,
and connecting with other mothers who have been blessed to parent a child with special needs.
I really do love social media.
And I think social media can be a really good thing.
I have seen prayers answered and families restored.
I also think it can be destructive.
To families, marriages, self image, satisfaction with life, faith in God's timing.
I've heard of women taking breaks from Facebook because it pained them so terribly to see others announcing pregnancies or conversely, complaining about the burden of their children.
I've heard of others giving up social media on the weekends because they recognize the value of time spent with family.
New York Times reports that between the time your child is born and the day they turn 18, parents have 940 Saturdays to spend with them. And by the time they turn five, 240 of them are already gone.
This week though, my reasons were slightly different.
From his birth, we knew Baker would encounter developmental delays.
We have not, however, used that as an excuse.
He has not been allowed to lay around lazily, nor have we stuck him in a swing to pass the day in front of a television.
We want him to function at the highest capacity God has gifted that precious little body.
Baker has worked diligently week in and week out, logging countless hours with specialists to be able to accomplish tasks that come so naturally to other children.
Even with this purposeful play and frequent therapy sessions, he is lagging behind his peers.
I have handled this very well to this point, grateful for the progress Baker has made, celebrating each intentional step. I think we cheered more when Baker sat up on his own than through the whole Alabama National Championship, and if you know me, that's a lot!
But this week, instead of celebrating as frequently as I should, I mourned.
Extreme exaggeration ahead.
As I scrolled through Facebook, and other forms of social media, I saw babies only days old holding their heads high, babies who still had umbilical cords intact crawling, and babies yet to celebrate their half birthday training for marathons and preparing for public speaking events.
And I mourned.
Instead of focusing, as I normally do, on the incredible things Baker is doing.
The things we have set as goals and worked so gosh darn hard to accomplish.
The things we have shared as prayer requests and had others literally lay their hands on my boy's wonderfully made little body and beg for God to intercede and equip his muscles to work in a way to accomplish these.
Instead of those things, I saw the things he wasn't doing.
And I mourned.
So, I closed the computer and I put down my phone.
And with Baker, I played.
I held his arms as his step reflexes kicked in, and methodically he walked his little body towards me.
With each step, his voice rose, his smile widened, his eyes brightened.
And when his limp body collapsed into mine, he clapped and "yayed" and grinned.
And I squeezed my little with a thankful squeeze.
And I celebrated.
And with Baker, I played.
We sat, our toes wiggling together.
And rolled the ball back and forth.
He picked it up.
At my request, he rolled it to me, and anxiously awaited for me to return the favor.
With each release, each tumble, each interception of the ball, each sign for "ball," "please," and "thank you," he applauded himself. And I applauded him.
And I celebrated.
And with Baker, I played.
I handed him his cup, and instead of instinctively throwing it wildly to the floor, he took it to his mouth like he hadn't done in weeks. He couldn't keep the milk in because his cheeks were beaming with pride.
And I celebrated.
Sometimes quiet is what we need to truly celebrate and appreciate what we have.
With social media, I find myself in a constant battle of comparing.
Comparing myself
my body
my clothes
my home
my job
my car
my vacations
my marriage
my child
to those around me.
But when I focus inward, when I take full advantage of the few moments God has given me in this life, to truly be present with the ones I love, I find that His grace is sufficient. I find that He provides exactly what I need in the exact time I need it.
And I celebrated.

1 comment:

  1. "I find that He provides exactly what I need in the exact time I need it."
    So true and exactly what I need to remember. Comparison steals joy unnecessarily; I'm right there with you!
    Just found your blog-- so glad I did!