My hero, the UPS Man, brought my new camera, a Canon 40D, today. While I was charging the battery, I decided to rearrange things in the Hoosier cabinet that sits in my kitchen. I moved a birdhouse and noticed something rattling inside. I now present the first photo from my new camera:
That's my son's ADHD medicine and his vitamins. Some days he seems so out of control, and I ask my husband if he watched Thomas actually swallow the pills. He gets very annoyed with me for being suspicious, but I remind him of all the pills we've found on top of the cabinets, in the back of the pantry, and on the floor in the past. I inevitably end up feeling terrible for not giving Thomas the benefit of the doubt, and wishing I could be more like my loving, generous husband.
Our pastor gave a sermon on Sunday based on Matthew 6:24-34:
25"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?
28"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the lilies of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? 31So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' 32For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 33But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. 34Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
I took the sermon as a personal message to me, telling me to chill the heck out. I spend way too much time worrying about tomorrow, and imagining that every bad choice Thomas makes is going to lead right to prison or a life of misery. Every small, dumb 12-year-old thing he does takes on much greater importance than it deserves and I become consumed with fear that he is ruining his life before it's really even started. I vowed on Sunday, for the 347th time, to trust him (and Him) more and start fresh.
So it breaks my heart even more to find evidence that my suspicions were not unfounded, that my struggling child is sabotaging himself and making his life harder than it has to be. Making all of our lives harder than they have to be. Puberty is approaching fast, and it feels like a speeding train headed right for our house. If we have not been able to get his issues under control by the time the testosterone and the normal trials of adolescence arrive, there's not much chance things are going to improve.
We are seeing a psychiatrist Thursday for some testing, but it already feels like we have visited every mental health professional in our town over the past 5 years. If you pray, pray for my son who is so obviously in some kind of pain that a loving family alone can't touch. Tomorrow is his "Gotcha Day," the tenth anniversary of the day he joined our family. So much hope and joy on that day, and I just want to feel a little bit of that again.