If one lives long enough, it becomes clear that there are no guarantees in life. There are moments, days and weeks when the lack of control feels overwhelming. This becomes blatantly evident when a loved one is struggling with a chronic illness. Every family walks with joy and pain, blessings and excruciating losses.
Facing these issues is as emotionally painful for me as anyone else around the world, yet my burden is lessened simply because of my deep rooted faith. My daughter lives with bipolar disorder. Sometimes she “has” bipolar disorder and sometimes she “struggles with” bipolar disorder and, yes, sometimes she “suffers” from bipolar disorder. Yet it is still a painful struggle, not only for a person facing a chronic illness every single day, but for those who love him or her. Sadly, my daughter struggles more than she lives. Due in part to attitude, in part to traumas she has suffered over her growing up years.  I, too, have various relationships with her illness. When things are going well I am keenly aware of our incredible blessings. But, when she falls or struggles with new symptoms I find it difficult to count my blessings while fighting the worries that well up from the deepest parts of my heart. When Madison's illness takes her into bumps or twisty-turns or even on roller-coaster rides I struggle against fear, anger and grief. I KNOW in my head that I have no control. There is so much that I can do but also so much that I cannot. I cannot fix it or make it go away. I have tried negotiating with God when my daughter : “Give it to me, Lord. Let me have it. My daughter is young and just beginning her life, she has her whole future ahead of her. I can handle it.” But the answer is always, “No, daughter, I have a plan for her life and for yours as well.” Finally and ultimately I have no choice but to cry then simply accept it and cover her in prayer.
Sometimes all I can do is sit by and just be. Just BE. A concept so very difficult, even beyond my comprehension most days. I am not a sitter or even one who naturally can just "be". It is a skill I try to practice every day. A concept exceedingly tested by the experiences of living with a child who suffers with chronic illness. I try to remind myself that there are positive and wonderful things that have come from this journey. Sometimes they are nearly impossible to remember but so true: honesty, love, deeper friendships and relationship, commitment, strength, humility and patience. I am in awe at the God-granted strength that wells up inside me and allows me to move forward when faced again and again with the incredible pain and worry that comes with this journey. I try to allow myself to embrace the simple joys that I find in the daily walk of life. I try to remember the promises and plans that were laid for me even before I was born. I am learning more every day to trust in His plans. Some day my daughter will learn to live with bipolar and then when the bumps and twisty turns and roller coasters hit she will be strong enough to stand through those trials. For now, it is my time to sit and just "be" while she falls and figures this journey out....quite possibly the most difficult part of the journey. Watching failures come and knowing the train is going off track and not having the ability to stop it from crashing.