An old friend from high school who I haven't seen in many years has been heavy on my mind lately. Marci is struggling with her young son's explosive mood disorder.
She bravely writes on facebook about the war she and her family fight everyday to help their boy. She documents his triumphs as well as his low times, she asks for prayers, she started an online support group for parents fighting this battle, and she honestly shares her fears as well as her gratitude and hope and her humor. Her courage and heartbreak and grace and faith and love for her family are obvious and overwhelming.
Everyone you meet has fought or is fighting a battle of some kind. And nothing is more hopeless in the midst of the fight than thinking you are alone. Hearing or reading that someone else has experienced something similar is comforting to people. It gives us hope. It's a life jacket when we're sinking.
My sister and I talk about this a lot just in terms of parenting. So many mothers push this angelic, perfect, brilliant image of their kid into the world. And that's cool. Kids all have their angelic, perfect, brilliant moments, and we should definitely celebrate those! But when I struggle with motherhood, with hard decisions and discipline and sleepless nights and exhaustion and perpetual worry and endless doubt; what helps me keep it together and find hope is someone saying, "Been there. Done that. It was the same for me".
Then suddenly I'm not alone. And while the burden is still there, it doesn't seem as heavy.
Imagine how amplified that feeling must be for those struggling with intense crisis...
So my heart and prayers and thoughts reach out to this warrior mom, Marci, and her son and family and the daily war they are waging. And my admiration goes out to Marci herself for expending precious time and energy to unite other struggling parents, for seeking knowledge and advice and prayers from people who have been there, and for getting and giving support to the these warriors - the courage to fight another day.
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