Reliquished Control

My honey this morning before dropping him off at the vet.

My honey this morning before dropping him off at the vet.

I have this strong urge to write today. Perhaps it’s due to the revelation of just how much is out of my control.

This morning I dropped my “son,” Dallas, off at the veterinary hospital to have his teeth cleaned for the first time at the age of 6. The fact that he had to go under anesthesia made me really nervous, especially since I am trying to treat him holistically for fleas and heart worm prevention.

But two weeks ago he had an eye infection.

Two days later he strained his back somehow.

Meds. Meds. MEDS.

Day after day I visit mom in the hospital, staring into tear-filled tired eyes and holding her fragile hand. She had only been out of the hospital for a week after her collapsed lung, and now she is back due to a blockage of the bowels.

This morning she writhed in her bed moaning, trying anything to get comfortable, get relief, but she found none. She was flush and sweaty, yet didn’t have a fever. No one knew the cause, and because of it, her small bowel series test needed to be postponed. They suspect it was because she had just received pain meds as well as three different breathing treatment medications.

It’s the same thing.

Meds. Meds. MEDS.

I tried to encourage her, sing to her, pray with her, read Bible verses to her, but nothing helped. She is tired of fighting.

And quite frankly, I am tired too.

No sooner do I get home from the hospital and the vet calls. Dallas is under anesthesia and everything is going well, BUT . . .

I really loathe that word. It leaves a lingering that dashes hope and stirs worry. Yet sometimes it can do just the opposite, ushering in hope and healing.

“He has three loose teeth which I couldn’t see until I got in here. It will be $250 for pain meds and to extract the teeth.”

Her words echo from the week before, “I really doubt he will need extractions since he is ‘only’ 6.” I don’t care about the money. I care about my son, my furbaby, my blessing from above. It dawned on me that he is aging. And where has the time gone?

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I never thought I could love a dog so much . . .

I am tired of tear-stained face and hurting heart. I am tired of not having the answers to life’s unending, over complicated questions. I am tired of clenched fist to sky asking, “Why does it keep getting harder to say thanks?”

BUT thanksgiving proceeds the miracle. I know that well. Even when tears fall, chest tightens and heaves, and fists clench tightly toward sky, I can thank Him. I NEED to thank Him, because that’s the only way to make it out of here alive.

The heaviness that looms about like a raincloud pregnant with grief need not stay. No, it comes down to opening my hands to the heavens and relinquishing control of that which I thought I had control of. It’s trusting the Lord with all my heart, leaning not on my own understanding, and acknowledging Him in all my ways, so He will make my paths straight (Psalm 3: 5-6). After all, only He can do it.

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6 thoughts on “Reliquished Control

  1. Praying for your sweet furbaby to be home with you very soon, and happy to be back with his mommy. 🙂 He is precious….we have a black cockapoo who looks a little like your Dallas. They really do get to be family for sure. Also said a prayer for your mom; I’m so sorry that she is having so much trouble. And still praying for healing for that ankle of yours. Lisa

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Jen I love this. It’s hard to see our babies go through pain. They really do capture our hearts. One of the things I heard my pastor say was that not only is Papa able to heal but He will heal and He also WANTS TO heal. It doesn’t matter what the healing is for. I speak peace over your heart and healing and wholeness over your sweet Dallas. I love you sis.

    Liked by 1 person

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